I had someone ask me just yesterday: “I have a question. I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while and I keep forgetting because we always get really busy. You call your wife something. It’s not a name but letters…?” To which I replied, “The BCPF.” “Yes!” she said. “What does that mean?” I told her and, at that, figured that it’s been a while since I’ve told the story, and, since she knows it from reading about the blog on Facebook, update those who may have been wondering the same thing but were afraid to ask (or just didn’t think to).
When I started The Less Desirables (with Brian Attridge), we played our guests, friends, significant others, etc. as “characters” and “cast members.” Call it ambitious, call it unrealistic, call it moronic, call it big-headed. No matter what you call it, we had visions of this podcast being a big deal. No one else was doing it. We hit it at the right time. So, for this reason, we wanted to keep some anonymity about those we cared about.
When I met The BCPF, she was recently separated from her ex-dumba… er, husband, was definitely intent on not returning and was convinced she was done with him. Also, when we first met, I was in the middle of another relationship. We were just friends; nothing more. She was a trivia player and I was the quiz master. We spent some time just talking and getting to know each other, only after trivia. There was a spark, definitely, but nothing to jump on, yet. Again, she was fresh out and I was in a relationship. My relationship was one that I knew was on the brink of ending. I didn’t like it, but I was okay with it. I could talk to my new friend about it. I also wasn’t divorced from my first wife, although we had been separated for about two years; in reality longer than that.We would have standing “dates,” when we weren’t at trivia, on Facebook. 11:10pm each night. We’d talk for hours into the night. Sometimes falling asleep with our hands on the keyboard. She’d see that I was typing something and then a bunch of jibberish or nonsense would come across her screen. I usually sent whatever I typed, in this state, as a joke. She’d be silent for long periods of time and I knew that she’d fallen asleep. We got closer that way, even staying in our own homes (well me at mine, she at her mother’s) on a Saturday night and watching Britcoms together. I told her that I was very interested in her but I understood where she was. If it ended up that we weren’t able to go out, I’d be happy as long as she was in my life. And, truly, I meant that. Every once in a while she’d let me take her with me to places when she wasn’t working or just had some free time or when I had something cool to do (I do a lot of cool things; at least to me they’re cool). Still just friends. I hear you screaming, Dear Reader: “but what does it mean!?!?!?” I’m getting there!
Trivia always happens at Finnigan’s Wake on Tuesdays. Wednesdays are when we record The Less Desirables. Brian would ask me, on the air, about what I did or something and my response would be along the lines of: “oh I watched this with my beautiful, close, personal friend…” or “stayed out late at Finn’s, talking to my beautiful, close, personal, friend…” or “my beautiful, close, personal, friend and I went here or there.” After a while, especially as much as I was saying it, saying “beautiful, close, personal friend” got to be a mouthful. It was at that point that I decided that I’d just call her my BCPF after that. She took to it, too. She started using the term to describe herself. She uses that as her personal Twitter and Instagram handles. She is The BCPF.
When we got engaged, we joked that it was “Beautiful, Close, Personal Fiance” but we maintain that it still stands for its original meaning. BCPW wouldn’t work for me (or her probably), so we didn’t change it once we were married. She will always be my BCPF. And there you have it, Dear Reader, the story and meaning behind the name of my girl, The BCPF. Hope you enjoyed it.
Until tomorrow, same blog channel…
“Best friend request EVER!” – The BCPF