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It's the Saturday night couples' custom -- getting a group together for dinner. If theater is also involved in the evening's plan, where and when to eat is probably solved easily by proximity to the theater and show time. You know who's coming because tickets have been purchased in advance.

If no theater is involved, it's a whole different thing. You start planning two weeks in advance. Who's coming?

"I'll call these couples and you call those couples," you say to a friend.

Then we have to get back to each other to discuss the number of people who said yes. This takes days.

One couple has a sick child. "I'll have to let you know."

One man is on a business trip and won't be back till the end of the week. A couple is having babysitter problems. One guy says the diary is in his wife's purse and she's not home. "I'll call you back."

By the end of the first week, you have three yeses, one no, and two maybes. You ask for restaurant suggestions. One suggests Chinese food, another suggests Italian, and a third wants the kosher delicatessen.

Both "maybes" call back. They have now become "yeses." The one who said no calls back and says yes. Now you get three more restaurant suggestions -- sushi, Thai, and Cheesecake Factory. You don't care, really. You are just interested in getting these seven couples together for a change. More calls are made to discuss the restaurant choice.

"I'm not eating raw fish."

"Delicatessen is too salty."

"Italian food is too spicy for my husband."

"The Chinese restaurant was cited for violations -- I wouldn't eat there if I was starving."

"Do they have an early bird?"

"Last time we went there, we had to wait an hour. I want a place that takes reservations."

"I'm not eating dinner at 4:30."

Your head is spinning already. All you have at this point is a date and 14 people, including yourself and your husband. You decide to eliminate the exotic choices. No sushi, no Thai. That leaves seven couples and four restaurant choices.

You look for a universal choice. You figure that a steak house might be a good idea. The men usually like it and there's always a fish or two on the menu for the dieters. Maybe that will work.

So you make calls again to the other six couples and succeed in eliminating the Cheesecake Factory (too crowded on Saturday night) and the kosher deli (they will rush everybody out of there). That leaves three possibilities: Chinese, Italian, and the steak house.

More phone calls follow. Other people have now heard about the Chinese restaurant's troubles with Health Department violations, so you eliminate that one. Eventually, the vote is split three to three between an Italian restaurant and the steak house.

One couple is out of town and cannot be reached for a few days. Meanwhile, you discuss the time and manage to get everyone to agree to 7 p.m. Both restaurants accept reservations.

When the last couple comes back, they vote for the steak house, thus breaking the deadlock. You breathe a sigh of relief and make the 7 p.m. reservation at the steak house, first making certain that they offer salmon. Unfortunately, the place does not offer dessert, so you decide to have the group at your house after dinner for coffee and cake.

There are a few more calls discussing what to wear and who is driving. This part is easy.

The day before the dinner, you get a call from one of the women.

"Hey, listen, I found a coupon for the Italian restaurant in the paper today. Twenty percent off the whole check and dinner comes with cannoli or tiramisu as well as beverage. I already called everybody. They all want to go there."

You are speechless. You have already bought cakes and fruit for dessert. While you are trying to find the words for an answer, she keeps talking.

"I know you made a lot of calls already, so I made the reservation and cancelled the other one. The discount is only good before 5 p.m. so I made it for 4:45. It's all settled. See you Saturday."

You can't talk. If you say anything now, it could get nasty and ruin the whole evening for everybody. You swallow your anger.

"OK," you grunt.

She hangs up. You look in the liquor cabinet, select any old thing, and take a swig. Then you put all the cakes in the freezer.

You throw on some clothes and drive to the supermarket. All you need to serve now is candy, nuts, and pretzels when they come to your house after dinner. Most of it will be left over and you'll be nibbling it all week.

Why did I get myself into this, you wonder? If we eat at 4:45, we'll be rushed out of the restaurant by 6:15. What do we do for the rest of the evening?

An hour later, the phone rings. One couple cancels out. You call the restaurant and change the reservation to 12.

At that point, you wish they'd all cancel out.

Next time, you're not going to be the social director. Let somebody else do it.

Toby Rosenstrauch, an award-winning columnist, lives in Boynton Beach, Fla.