Weird Phenomenon: The No-Help Helper

Earlier this week I was at Meijer in the bean aisle. Beans are tricky. They've all got two names. For instance, what you may not know is that 'cannelini beans' are also called 'white kidney beans'. Kind of like in high school when you had to study mythology and it turned out that the Romans and Greeks all had the same gods, but they had different names and you had to memorize both of them, and you're like WHY THE HELL DON'T YOU GUYS JUST AGREE ON ONE NAME? Anyways.
Usually, in the face of bean confusion, I call my mom. My mom knows beans like the back of her hand. She's a registered beanologist. But that day I didn't have my phone on me. I was at the grocery store with Brady without a phone. Please do not tell Rob this. It will prompt all sorts of discussions about responsibility and blahblahblah.
This was my lucky day though, because just as I was coming to the realization that no beans said canellini, a woman appeared behind me. The woman really did look a little like the fairy godmother from Cinderella, so I'm sure you can see where my thinking was.
Fairy Godmother points at a big jar of beans and says to me "Those beans are GOOD! I made a soup with them and they were fantastic!"
I say "Do you know which beans are cannelini beans? I know they have another name..."
This is where the weird phenomenon comes in.
My fairy godmother then proceeds to pick up four different cans of beans and explain to me that they are NOT what I'm looking for. It goes like this:
"Well, these are pinto beans. And these are great northern beans. And these are black beans..." On and on and on. What is the thinking here? Is this like a process of elimination thing? Was she going to identify and take every can of beans off of the shelf until only one lonely can of label-less beans remained in the back, hiding behind all of the other beans?
"Ah hah!" she would then say, "YOU must be the cannelini beans!"

This is not a phenomenon unique to beans.

Rob and I have both noticed this. Have you ever made the stupid, stupid mistake of pulling over and asking someone watering their flowers if they happen to know where XYZ Street is? Here is the response you're bound to get:
Them: "Well... this is Front Street.." (pause..look around) "and that's State Street..." (pause... look at you.. water gushes out of the hose, making a lake on the lawn...)
You: "Okay..thanks..."

Unhelpful helpers of the world, I am speaking directly to you. STOP. Repeat after me "I. Don't. Know." Say it, now. Say it again. Liberating, isn't it? Use it. It is okay not to know. It is okay to stop wasting people's time in the name of friendliness. Because, you see, I'm not upset that you don't know. That's perfectly fine. I'm upset that, because I have asked you this question, I now have to sit and wait through the answer which, let's be honest, is really just "I don't know".
But I can see you that you are turning over a new leaf. You will do great things with these three new words. I will now take this gift that you have given me, this ten minutes that you would have used to name all of the objects around me like I'm in a F'ING RICHARD SCARRY BOOK, and I will give it to someone who can help me.

I thank you.
Go now.
You are free.