en — your host
i won't just sit you anywhere.
i read you.
a few questions — how you live, how you eat, whether you text back.
i pick three tables that fit.
after hoursnight owls, low-key
trail mixalways outside
the loud onebig talkers, good arguments
you choose the one that's yours.
compatible, not similar.
that's the whole thing.
this is what a table looks like.
en seats you, then gets out of the way. the six of you pick a night and a place, and everyone turns up with one thing.
i've saved you a seat at iris's.
she's making soup. jonah says he'll bring the good bread this time.
en · thursday, 6:42 pm
- iris — lentil soup
- jonah — sourdough, allegedly
- maya — hot sauce & opinions
- dev — sparkling water
- sam — a weird card game
six strangers, one table. it works more often than you'd think.
potluk is not trying to keep you here.
no feed.
there is nothing to scroll. the app is a door, not a room.
no swiping.
en seats you. you meet six people, not six hundred profiles.
no streaks.
the only metric we care about: dinner by week four.
no hovering.
once the table is yours, en gets quiet. the group belongs to you.
the table is set.
all that's missing is you. and maybe a dessert.
