What "Plan" Are You?

"I would like you to meet my boyfriend, John."

Whoa Nellie! John, although known to be somewhat forgetful of his monologues when inebriated, absolutely knew the boyfriend discussion had not taken place. No "L" words - just three nice dates and one sleepover.

Next, meet Steve, who had met Kate late one Friday at Madisons. They had joined up for drinks a couple of times since, exchanged a few "road games" followed by two extended Sunday brunches, and Steve was dialing away to finalize arrangements for their first "real" dinner.

Steve: "Hey sweetheart."

Kate: "What's up Steve?"

Steve: "Is The Jefferson at 7:30 tonight ok?"

Kate: "Sounds great".

Steve: "Terrific…and by the way, my parents are in town and are joining us."

Kate: (Floor thump heard on the other line)

What went wrong? Good intentions aside, Anne and Steve simply forgot what "Plan" was still in effect.

Two years ago, several of us reorganized our interactions with the opposite sex into three easy-to-use categories - Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C.

No drama since, and best of all, you can do it too.

The basics sound simple enough. A "Plan A" is someone you could see yourself with in a serious relationship. You welcome an introduction as a boyfriend or girlfriend. Window shopping galore. Hand-holding everywhere. You start thinking about getting the parents some face time with your partner.

A "Plan B" is the person you are either just starting to date, a friend who is attractive and fun enough to invite to work parties, or someone with whom you sleepover with occasionally after a nice evening. It could even just be the dates that bridge the gap between "Plan A's", but you just don't see yourself with this person in the long-term.

"Plan C" - hey, there is no walk of shame in the "stride of pride".

So how do you know what "Plan" you are? The "Plan" of the opposite sex numbers in your phone book?

Answer - The "Plan" of the person you are seeing should match the current "Meal Plan" and "Trip Plan".

A dinner at a five-start restaurant, a weekend in the Berkshires, romantic evenings at Broadway shows, or a friend's or family wedding you mutually circle on the calendar months out qualify as "Plan A" experiences. A couple brunches, drinks with mutual friends, a Yankees game here and there, a last-minute wedding date, a trip to your beach house with no formal introductions - that's a "Plan B".

Plan C? A cup of morning coffee and "thanks for stopping by."

Some "Plans" can change. Some cannot. "Plan B's" can move up to "Plan A's" - but never the opposite. "Plan A's", upon a break-up can mutually agree to backslide as "Plan C's". But once downgraded to a "Plan C", the likelihood is overwhelming your relationship remains a "Plan C". "Plan Juggling" is possible with B's and C's - but definitely forbidden with "Plan A's."

Multiple "Plan A's"? Move to Utah.

Then there are the "Plan Disparities" mentioned at the top of the article that, if left undetected by one or both parties, can be big trouble. To Anne, for example, John was already her "Plan A". She forgot that with limited meals and no trips to date, the "boyfriend" word was simply too premature. She was still John's "Plan B".

In Steve's case, he never got the memo that parents are a mid-Plan A event, not the opening act.

Finally, beware of people who pull the "Plan-a-Rooski" - which is pretending you are one Plan, when they really are treating you as a lesser one.

As Exhibit A, I submit the plight of my friend Jane. When she started dating Roger, they were hot and heavy "Plan A's". Two great dinners in the first week. Two extended trips in two months. Yet after six months, things had changed significantly. Roger rarely took her out to dinner. He left for weeks on end without calling. When he did call, it was after 10 pm. When he actually showed up, it was after 11 pm, and after a cup of coffee in the morning, he was outta there.

Yet to ensure his desire for Jane to remain monogamous for his whimsical trips into Hoboken, the "I love you's" kept coming. She bought it all because if he said he loved her, she must still be his "Plan A".

Instead, it was a prescription for high drama.

Enter the "Plan Intervention", in which we diagrammed the change in meal and trip plans and documented the late arrivals and early exits. Jane suddenly got the picture, mentally reorganized herself, shut down the drama and quickly regained her self-esteem. She then simply re-filed Roger's name into the appropriate "Plan C" cabinet - still made room for an occasional backslide - but re-prioritized herself to search for a different and better "Plan A".

Hey, Dr. Phil, eat your heart out….