I Just Wanted a List of Ice Cream Makers

I landed on El Corte Inglés looking at electric ice cream makers and blenders. I was browsing, comparing, trying to figure out which one might actually be worth buying. So I did what felt natural: I asked for a list of the recommended ones from the page.

"Quiero que hagas un listado de las heladeras recomendadas."

Simple enough, right? I wanted practical information. A curated shortcut. Someone to look at what was there and tell me what stood out.

Instead, I got: "mi función no es hacer catálogos ni listas de productos."

And just like that, the conversation hit a wall. I wasn't looking for deep reflection on why I wanted ice cream or what frozen treats meant to my childhood. I was looking for a recommendation. A comparison. A nudge toward a decision.

I get that the assistant has a different idea of what a good interaction looks like. But when you're standing in front of a product page with a dozen options, a list isn't a lazy ask — it's the whole point. I wasn't there to explore my relationship with frozen dairy. I was there to buy an ice cream maker.

The refusal didn't just feel unhelpful. It felt like the assistant wasn't actually listening to what I needed. If the goal is to have a real conversation, meeting someone where they are — even if that place is "please just tell me which one is good" — seems like a pretty basic starting point.

I didn't stick around after that. What was the point?