Eight to ten strangers on a Thursday evening, six to eight on a Tuesday lunchtime. There are seven rules, each with its reason.
Turn up
You booked, so you come: at a table of ten, one absence is noticed all evening. Tell us in time and it doesn’t count. If we don’t hear from you, the ticket is lost, and after two no-shows without warning, we stop sending invitations.
Be on time
Introductions happen at the start, all together. Turn up twenty minutes late and you’re asking the whole table to start again. Métro line 13 takes a lot of blame, we know: we ride it too.
No pitch, no badge, no business cards
Twenty seconds to introduce yourself: what you do, who for, what you’re after at the moment. Then on to something else. Business cards stay in your bag: once they come out, people start prospecting. If someone interests you, swap details over coffee.
Listen as much as you talk
Ten people, two and a half hours: roughly a quarter of an hour of talking each. The rest of the time you listen, starting with the quietest person at the table.
Everyone pays their own way
You pay for what you ordered, at the restaurant’s prices. Your neighbour has the dish of the day and two glasses of red, you have a salad and a sparkling water: each of you pays for your own. Your €15 booking comes off your bill.
No selling at the table
Looking for clients or a business partner? Say so. That’s what the club is for. Nothing gets sold during the meal. The quote can wait for a coffee the following week, just the two of you.
What’s said at the table stays at the table
People talk about clients, cash flow, sometimes their doubts. None of it leaves the room: not in a meeting, not on LinkedIn.
What we promise in return
- We read every application in full before we seat you anywhere.
- You know the price before you book.
- Someone from the club is there at the start of every table, and reachable throughout.
- We remove from the club, without discussion, anyone who behaves badly towards another guest.