An introduction buys you one good evening. A circle gives you the same faces over and over, until they stop being faces. That is the one thing a table of matched strangers can never hand you.
So there is no swiping, no bios, no algorithm guessing who you'd get along with. One city, one set of people, a table that keeps filling with the same names.
Sociologists have said the same three things since the 1950s. All three get harder to find, year after year.
You have to be in the same room. Not a feed, not a group chat. A room, with chairs.
Roughly fifty hours before someone counts as a friend. Nobody gets there on one dinner.
Long walks, late drinks, a hill at 6am. The situations where people stop performing.
Nobody hands you these three anymore. So we built a place that does.
Nothing happens Monday to Thursday. The club lives at the weekend.
A pub, booked by us. No RSVP, no agenda. Turn up or don't.
Supper in two sittings. Tables of ten, and we decide who sits with whom.
Runs, treks, long walks. Whatever gets people outside and talking.
The long one. A notable table, food, music, all of us.
Applications open soon
We'll write once, when applications open.
You're on it.
We'll be in touch, {{ firstName }}.