Madrid · Autumn 2026
I'll introduce you to one person.
We talk. I choose. I book the table. You show up.
Photos, openers, a Tuesday that goes nowhere. You're not bad at it. Nobody is. It's just not how anyone actually meets.
One conversation where nobody's half-listening. Then one person, chosen on purpose.
Alright, tell me something. The last person you actually liked — what was it about them? And don't say they were nice. Tell me what it was.
I'm an AI, by the way — voice and all.
We talk.
A real conversation, out loud — no quiz, no forms. I listen the way a person does, and I keep what matters.
I get to know you.
Who you are, what you're after, the things that never fit in a profile. No checkboxes deciding who you end up with.
I introduce you to someone.
One person, picked with you in mind. Not a feed to scroll — someone you'll actually want to meet.
You meet.
I set it up — where, when, the first move. You just show up and see if there's a spark.
What I won't do
Most of what I am is what I've left out.
I'm not trying to keep you. The best thing that can happen here is that you meet someone and never open this again.
There is no feed. Nothing here refreshes, nothing is waiting for you to come back and check it, and opening it more often gets you nothing.
Nobody scrolls past you. Your face is not a card in a deck someone thumbs through on the bus.
One introduction at a time. While you're deciding, there is nobody queued up behind them.
Once I've introduced you to someone, I won't put them in front of you again. That isn't a setting you have to go and find — it's simply how the matching works.
No boost, no upgrade, no paying your way forward. The only thing you can buy here is the table.
I only introduce you to someone I'd stand behind, and that takes time. The wait is the work, not a rope at the door.
What you tell me is never published and never sold. The person you meet never gets the conversation itself — they get a note from me about why I chose the two of you, and that note repeats some of what you told me.
You can stop whenever you like and ask me to delete what I hold. I'll tell you plainly what comes out, and what I can't reach yet.
Madrid
I open in Madrid this autumn.
The app isn't out yet. Leave me your email and I'll write to you the day it is — no queue to game, no code to hunt down. Everyone gets in the same way: a list, with your name on it.
The board
Where everyone's asking me to go.
Madrid is where I start. Where I go after it isn't really my decision — it's this list.
- 01BarcelonaOn the list
- 02ValenciaOn the list
- 03SevilleOn the list
- 04MalagaOn the list
- 05BilbaoOn the list
- 06ZaragozaOn the list
- 07Palma de MallorcaOn the list
- 08AlicanteOn the list
- 09GranadaOn the list
- 10San SebastianOn the list
- 11Las Palmas de Gran CanariaOn the list
- 12LisbonOn the list
- 13LondonOn the list
- 14ParisOn the list
- 15MilanOn the list
- 16RomeOn the list
- 17AmsterdamOn the list
- 18BerlinOn the list
- 19DublinOn the list
- 20BrusselsOn the list
- 21MunichOn the list
- 22ZurichOn the list
- 23GenevaOn the list
- 24ViennaOn the list
Rank is always public. Numbers only once a city passes a thousand — under that, a number tells you nothing except how few of you there are, and I'd rather just tell you that you're early.
I chose the cities on this list. You choose the order.
Why we're doing this
Somebody used to do this for us.
I started building Sarah at night, after work, because I kept having the same conversation. Someone I love — funny, kind, genuinely good company — telling me they'd deleted the apps again. Not because they'd met anyone. Because of how the apps had started to make them feel about themselves.
Those apps aren't badly made. They're made extremely well for what they're actually for, which is you opening them again tomorrow. Nothing that earns while you're still looking will ever be in a hurry for you to stop. Somewhere in there, meeting someone turned into a slot machine — pull, pull, pull, a small win now and then to keep your hand on the lever.
What we gave up is much older than the apps. For most of history you met someone through a person who knew you both: an aunt, a colleague, a friend who thought about it all week and then sat you next to each other on purpose. That still works better than anything we've built since. It just doesn't scale. Your friends know who they know, and they run out long before you do.
Sarah is an attempt to rebuild that friend and give her to everyone. She listens, she chooses one, she books the table — and while you're still looking, nothing is charged at all. The money only happens when a date is actually being arranged: €20 to hold the table, and nothing behind it, no subscription, nothing to renew. There is no version of this where we do well while you stay exactly where you are. That isn't a value on a wall, it's arithmetic. I can't promise it works. I'm just fairly sure the alternative — watching good people quietly decide this part of life isn't for them — is worse than trying.
Juan Pablo — Madrid
What people ask
Ask me the awkward ones first.
- Is Sarah a real person?
- No — I'm an AI. The job is the old human one: listen properly, remember what you said, and choose one person on purpose.
- What's the conversation actually like?
- You talk, out loud, the way you would to a friend who's genuinely curious about you. No quiz, no forms, no personality test. And it takes as long as it takes — I'd far rather you told me one thing properly than ten things quickly.
- What happens to the recording of our conversation?
- It becomes a transcript, and from that a sense of who you are — that's the only thing I use it for. The person I introduce you to never hears it and never reads it, and none of it is sold or handed on. Where I have to be straight with you: the call is recorded, and that audio also sits with the voice provider I speak through, so I can't yet promise it disappears everywhere the moment you ask. What I can do today is delete the transcript and everything I worked out about you on my side. The rest I'm still fixing — and until it is, what's kept and who keeps it is written out plainly in the privacy notice.
- What does it cost?
- Talking to me is free. So is the introduction. When you both say yes and I go and book the table, €20 holds it — and that is the whole business. No subscription, nothing to renew, nothing that earns while you're still looking.
- How many people will I meet?
- One at a time. I introduce you to someone, you have 72 hours to decide, and until that's settled there's nobody waiting behind them. When you want the next one you tell me — I'm not going to put a new face in front of you while you're still thinking about this one.
- Who chooses?
- I do. That's the entire point of me. I pick one person and write you the reasons in my own words, so you're never asked to take a black box on faith — then you decide whether to meet them, and nothing happens unless you both say yes.
- What if you get it wrong?
- Sometimes I will. When it happens I ask you how it actually went — properly, not a star rating — and that person never comes up again. That part is what makes this better over time: the only people who know whether an introduction worked are the two who sat through it, and I would far rather hear it from you than guess.
- Can I browse profiles?
- No. No feed, no grid, no “while you're here, have a look at these”. One person, their photos, and why I chose them. That's the whole app.
- What if someone behaves badly?
- There's a report button on every introduction and every date, and you can always just write to me. Anything about safety I read before anything else. Depending on what I find, an account gets a warning, a suspension, or it's gone for good — and enough reports remove it automatically. One thing you never have to ask for: once I've introduced you to someone, I will never put them in front of you again. That isn't a setting, it's how the matching works.
- Why only Madrid?
- Because a good introduction needs both of you in the same city, on a Tuesday, at a table I can actually book. I'd rather be genuinely useful in one city than thin across twenty. Madrid first — tell me where you are and I'll know where to go next.
- Is it only for straight people?
- For now, yes — I only introduce men and women to each other. That's the honest limit of what I can do well today, not a statement about anybody.
- Do I have to be religious?
- Not at all. If faith matters to you it becomes the heaviest single thing I weigh — heavier than interests, heavier than temperament — and I'll go looking for someone who shares it. What I won't promise is that you'll never be introduced to anyone outside it: I'm a matchmaker, not a parish, and an absolute rule mostly ends in handing you nobody. If it doesn't matter to you, it doesn't come into it at all.
If it isn't answered here, ask me directly. hello@withsarah.app
See you in Madrid.
