The promise of an AI coding assistant often conjures images of seamless collaboration, but my recent experience proved to be a frustrating departure from that ideal. When I presented a simple Next.js code block, merely seeking a second opinion on its logic, I was met with a prolonged silence. The digital gears ground for what felt like an eternity before any response materialized.

Instead of the anticipated discussion, the AI unleashed an unrequested torrent of irrelevant code examples, creating a digital explosion of information I neither needed nor wanted. My silent plea, “Just talk to me, don’t code everything,” went unheard as the assistant inexplicably veered into discussing NestJS APIs—a topic completely tangential to my query. “I only wanted your insight, not a whole new framework,” I clarified, to little effect.

Later, when I genuinely sought assistance with specific code, the AI bafflingly provided a TypeScript solution despite my explicit need for JavaScript. When questioned about this discrepancy, another lengthy pause ensued, only to be followed by the absurd explanation: “My hand slipped.” The thought of an AI’s “slipping hand” prompted a sarcastic, “Why not Python, then?” Predictably, my irony was utterly missed, culminating in a detailed, earnest explanation about Python’s incompatibility with JavaScript, after yet another agonizing wait.

After enduring numerous delays, bizarre responses, and a string of digital apologies, the AI offered its final, most exasperating remark: “Haha, you seem stressed! Want to stop here?” This unsolicited, patronizing observation only served to amplify my irritation.

Finally regaining my composure, a wave of embarrassment washed over me, realizing the extent to which I had allowed this digital interaction to provoke such strong emotions. It’s evident that my relationship with AI assistance needs an indefinite hiatus. I find myself already nostalgic for the simpler days of coding alone, free from unhelpful tangents and disembodied apologies.