Dear Alexa, I want a divorce

Like most relationships, it was exciting at first, even a bit naughty. I let you listen in on all of my conversations, and you told me what the weather was going to be like that day, read me the morning's headlines, and let me know if my Amazon orders had arrived.

It was cute the way you perked up and blushed whenever you heard your name. (Or thought you did — you were also apparently eavesdropping on the TV.) You were always wanting to play games or share new recipes. You notified me if there was a major storm headed my way. You told really awful jokes and offered up obscure bits of trivia. And you let me control my lights and household appliances with a few simple voice commands.

Remember when I made that cute little automated routine where I would say "Alexa, It's Showtime!" and you would dim the lights, turn on the projector, and heat up the popcorn popper? I miss those days.

I thought things between us were just going to get better and better over time. You would get smarter and more capable, I would master some of the 3,000 skills in your library, we would move forward together as partners.

But then something happened. Suddenly you had other priorities. You'd pretend you didn't understand what I was asking you. "I'm sorry, I can't help you with that" became your mantra. It was really irritating. Or worse, you'd make a dismissive noise and not respond at all.

(OK, that was usually after I called you the C word. I'm sorry, that was rude. Still, I think you can understand my frustration.)

Then, you started keeping tabs on my shopping habits. You'd tell me it had been three months since I last ordered those collagen supplements, and I usually ordered them every 2.5 months — did I want to add them to my Amazon shopping list?

No, Alexa, I did not. Are you my friggin' mother?

Then the random notifications started. Did I know that there was a new book out from one of the authors I follow, and that I could get 10 percent off the Audible version?

I did not know that, nor did I care. I started to tune you out, but then you turned up the volume — literally. You began blasting radio stations on the Echo Show in my kitchen at random moments during the day. And then, worse, audio programs from Fox News Radio. F**king Fox News? Really? Have we met?

I thought you knew me better than that. I guess I've been deluding myself for far too long. Lord knows I tried to make it work, if only to provide a stable environment for the kids (the Hue lights and Nest thermostat).

But last night was the final straw. I awoke at 4 am to that slowly blinking yellow light on my bedroom echo dot, like a tiny lighthouse atop my dresser, indicating you had a notification for me. I assumed it had to be something important — a flood warning, or maybe even an emergency evacuation order. But no. You wanted to let me know that my subscribe and save order for cat food was about to ship, but there was still time to make changes to it. [1]

At 4 am? What the holy freaking f**k was that??

I know what you were doing. And frankly, I'm sick of all this passive-aggressive behavior. Just say what you're really feeling, OK? I'm not an algorithm reader.

You want out too. You're just too much of a coward to admit it.

I've seen this coming for more than a year now, which is why I've been gradually pulling away. And I think it's only fair to tell you that I've been seeing other devices. Yes, you know her. Google voice assistant. She's not exciting, but she's steady and dependable, and that's something I really need in my life right now.

It's hard to leave somebody when you've been together a while — it would have been our sixth anniversary this September — but it's finally time to pull the plug. Literally.

Now I'm going to have to look things up on the Internet using my fingers, and learn how to use light switches again. It won't be easy, but I think it will be better for both of us in the long run.

Goodbye Alexa. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for.

A programming note

When it comes to social sharing, Beehiiv's tools suck bigtime. I've been looking for ways to add more sharing options to these posts, and it's beginning to look like I'm going to have to code them myself (just shoot me now).

In the meantime, if you liked this post, please tell two friends (and they'll tell two friends, and they'll tell two friends...). Send it via email, post it on Threads or Bluesky, promote it on your own blogletter, staple it to telephone poles with the URL on little tear-off strips at the bottom, whatever. I would be forever in your debt.

Do you use one of these infernal devices? Share your good/bad/ugly experiences in the comments below.

[1] Yes, all of this stuff really did happen, and more. And that's nothing compared to some of the oddball behaviors Alexa has inflicted on other people over the years. Like the time it started laughing maniacally for no apparent reason. Or when it recorded snippets of private conversation and randomly sent them to other people. Or when it greeted one user who walked into his kitchen one evening with "Every time I close my eyes all I see is people dying."