MetPeople memory
Met — people memoryiOS · TestFlight

A private pocket for faces and moments

Who you met.What stuck.

Faces stay. Names don't.

You meet someone good — a meetup, a dog park, the queue for coffee. A week later you have their face and nothing else. Met is the ten seconds that stop that: a name, the one detail that makes them stick, where you met.

Open MetTry it on this page

Notes are never read for ads, analytics or training. Sign-in is a one-time email code — there's no password.

Everyone you met this spring12 / 12 recalled
PRPriya RamanBuilds cabinetry. Met at the hardware meetup — offered a shop tour.
TVTomás VidalWalks a three-legged greyhound called Pepper. Will talk tide charts forever.
LHLena HossReads two books at once, one per coat pocket. Hates the word “content”.
YNYui NakamuraCeramicist. The kiln takes fourteen hours and she sleeps beside it.
NBNora ByrneSea swims every morning, all year. Insists it is not that cold.
MWMarcus WebbRuns the coffee place on J St. Ex-luthier — still fixes guitars in the back.
RORuth OkonjoRetired air-traffic controller. Bakes for the whole street on Sundays.
DADev AnandFixes pinball machines. Gave me his card, then his actual number.
EFElias FennRestores old maps. Showed me a coastline that does not exist any more.
SWSam WhitlockBeekeeper turned tax accountant. Still smells faintly of smoke.
KBKarim BelhadjRuns the late bookshop. Recommends by mood, never by genre.
AFAna FerreiraSat next to me at the Lisbon workshop. Grows lemons on a balcony.

One of them you wrote down

§ 01 — decay
01 / What actually happensOne note, four readings

The face lasts.
The detail doesn't.

Here is a note about someone worth keeping, read back at four points after the night you met him. Nothing was written down. Watch what memory hands back.

The night of

Marcus runs the coffee place on J Street. He used to build guitars, and he still fixes them in the back.

Three days
Two weeks
Two months

The same note is shown four times. Words drop out of each version to show how much of it memory gives back after three days, two weeks and two months.

Met is the ten seconds
in between.

Written down once, that same note reads the same in a year. No feed to bury it, no algorithm deciding it is stale.

Saved 14 Mar — still whole

Marcus Webb

Runs the coffee place on J St. Ex-luthier — still fixes guitars in the back.

Coffee shop on J St
§ 02 — ten seconds
02 / Save themTry it — it works

Ten seconds.
That's the whole job.

A name, the one detail that makes them stick, and where you met. Nothing else. Add them while it's still fresh and the note does the remembering for you.

That form is the real one, running right here on the page. Fill it in and it drops into the deck in section 03. The clock starts when you do.

Demo only — stays in this tab, sent nowhere

Add someone

0.0 seconds elapsed

In the app this is optional — deny location and Met still works.

§ 03 — recall
03 / Find them againName optional

Your people

6 of 6
  • Marcus Webb

    Runs the coffee place on J St. Ex-luthier — still fixes guitars in the back.

    Coffee shop on J St
  • Priya Raman

    Builds cabinetry. Met at the hardware meetup — offered a shop tour.

    Hardware meetup
  • Ana Ferreira

    Sat next to me at the Lisbon workshop. Grows lemons on a balcony.

    Lisbon workshop
  • Tomás Vidal

    Walks a three-legged greyhound called Pepper. Will talk tide charts forever.

    Dog park, east gate
  • Dev Anand

    Fixes pinball machines. Gave me his card, then his actual number.

    Arcade on 6th
  • Karim Belhadj

    Runs the late bookshop. Recommends by mood, never by genre.

    Bookshop, 11pm

You remember
“coffee”.
Not the name.

Met searches the name, the note and the place at once. So the word that actually survived — the dog, the lemons, the pinball machines — is enough to get the whole person back.

Tap one of the memory chips and watch the deck narrow. Anyone you added in section 02 is in there too.

§ 04 — the deal
04 / The dealPlain terms

Private isn't a feature.
It's the shape of it.

Met holds the most quietly personal thing you own — what you think about the people around you. That only works if the deal is simple enough to fit on one page.

Your notes

Never read for ads, never fed to analytics, never used to train a model.

Sign-in

A one-time code by email. There is no password, so there is no password to lose.

Export

Your whole account as JSON, whenever you want it, no request form.

Delete

Delete the account and every note goes with it. Not archived — gone.

And a list of things it will never grow into

  • a feed
  • streaks
  • contact syncing
  • a social graph

A pocket for faces and moments.
Not a CRM.

05 / Get it

Start with one person.
The one you'd hate to lose.

Web — open in any browser, today

iOS — in TestFlight now

Android — coming

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