So I've been looking for a particular chile so I can make some Peruvian food, so I called a Latin market in West Hollywood to see if they have it. What transpired was nothing short of an absurdist one-act. I have to think this guy was messing with me, because there's no way this could be for real. This was definitely not a language barrier issue, FYI.
DUDE: Hello? [Note: I get really pissed off when you call a business and they just answer with "hello." Say the name of your business so I know I didn't just call some rando's cell phone. I shouldn't have to ask you if this is the right number.]
MOLLY: Uh hi, is this Catalina Market?
DUDE: Yes.
MOLLY: Okay, I'm looking for a chile from Peru, called ají amarillo.
DUDE: Who?
MOLLY: No no, I'm looking for a yellow chile, from Peru.
DUDE: What's her name?
MOLLY: No. It's a chile. From Peru. Called ají amarillo. A-HEE Ah-mah-REE-oh.
DUDE: I don't know.
MOLLY: Okay, well could you check?
DUDE: I don't know her.
MOLLY: Okay, it is not a person. It is a food. Is this Catalina Market?
DUDE: Where is it?
MOLLY: What do you mean where is it!? IS THIS CATALINA MARKET!?
DUDE: Silence.
Aaaaaand I hang up.
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