Hey buddy, can we talk? There’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about. I was a little scared to bring it up, but I feel like I have to.

Are you only friends with me because of my printer?

What do I mean? Remember when Emily dumped me, and I was pouring my heart out to you about how I thought I’d never find love again? You interjected to ask if my depression over the breakup was the reason I had forgotten to buy a new fuchsia ink cartridge. It’s stuff like that.

Then there was that time when I hosted a dinner party and you offered to bring something. I thought you meant a nice bottle of wine or a shareable dessert. Instead, you brought a USB drive with your tax documents and spent the entire dinner making hard copies in the other room.

I’m not saying you haven’t been a good friend to me. I appreciated the invite to your co-worker’s fancy boat party, but I didn’t like how you introduced me to everyone as “the guy with the HP LaserJet Pro MFP 3101fdw Wireless Black & White All-in-One Laser Printer.” My name is Ryan.

I’m not keeping score or anything, but there was that one time when I asked if you wanted to come over for a game night, but the only game you wanted to play was “adjust settings on printer.” Or when my basement flooded last summer, the first thing you asked me was if the printer was okay. Or the time you suggested getting a drink at a cool bar, but the bar was the toner section at Staples. It all just seems like a weird coincidence.

I see you every weekend, yet I’m not invited to your wedding. No, don’t try to make excuses. It’s a month away, and you already sent out the invites. How do I know? You printed them at my house. You burned through almost $200 worth of my ink cartridges to make RSVPs for something I could neither RS nor VP to. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Relationships are about give and take. I give you unfettered access to my printer, ink, and paper, and you take advantage of that quite a bit. Seriously, I'm in over three thousand dollars of ink debt.

With the rise of email, evites, and e-signatures on digital DocuSigns, I fear my celebrity days as Printer Guy are numbered. And as much as my HP LaserJet is an albatross around my neck, at least it cements my place among my peers. For now. Without something that draws people to me, my friends will dry up like my ink cartridges after you printed out 350 wedding invitations.

When that day comes, I will emit a new siren’s call to keep luring you to my home. I am more than just my printer. I am also my expensive video game console; I maintain several rich and complex friendships solely because I own a Nintendo Switch. I even have a friendship that hinges entirely on my deluxe air fryer. Therefore, I will stock my home with increasingly cool gadgets until I earn your love and respect as a man, not just a living, breathing FedEx.