A blind date, arranged. No swiping. No profiles. No photos. You'll meet at the table.
Romance or friendship, the nights that suit you, the food you like. A few honest answers — no profile to perfect.
£20 a date — £15 goes straight onto your meal that night, £5 is a small booking fee. A promise with weight behind it. If you're stood up, the whole lot comes back as credit.
I match you myself and reserve a real venue. The day before, your briefing opens — a first name, the place, and how you'll know each other.
No photo to second-guess. You find each other with a line I give you both — “Are you here for the lighthouse?” The rest is yours.
Nothing about your match leaks early. No gallery to judge, no bio to overthink. The day before you meet, the seal opens — and you walk in curious, not pre-decided.
Never an afterthought, never a fuss.
Quietly there the whole night.
One person you choose is told where you are, but only if you don't check in after a date.
One tap for a fake call to give you an exit, or a quiet word to the venue staff. No fuss.
I make sure you got home safe — and if I can't reach you, your trusted contact hears from me.
Everyone passes an ID check. Some go further — a VERIFIED badge backed by a background screen.
Cancel anytime. The free weekly introduction is always yours.
I open a town once enough good people are waiting — never a thin room. Add your name and I'll write the day I can seat you.