There’s a peculiar kind of loneliness that has nothing to do with being friendless. It comes instead from the grotesque abundance of friend lists, group chats, and saved posts that promise a social life but never actually produce one: the screenshot of a band you want to see, the TikTok about a new restaurant, the half-serious “let’s do this” in a group thread that dissolves into silence. Rodeo, a new startup from two former Hinge executives, is trying to turn that digital clutter into real-world plans.

Rodeo’s core idea is deliberately small and practical. Where Hinge and a wave of other apps spent energy helping strangers meet, Rodeo focuses on the harder problem of helping people see the friends they already have. The app lets you drop screenshots, social posts, links, or flyers into a shared space; an AI layer then tries to pull out the relevant details — what the thing is, where it’s happening, when it’s happening, and what you’d actually need to show up. From a saved Instagram ad for a movie to a TikTok about a new brunch spot, Rodeo’s workflow stitches the fragments of a conversation into a single, actionable plan.

That extraction work — the unglamorous plumbing of addresses, showtimes, ticket links, and RSVP buttons — is where Rodeo wants to live. Users can save ideas into lists (date-night ideas, kid-friendly outings, things to do with college friends) and share those lists with groups so they act like a collaborative notebook rather than a graveyard of good intentions. When a plan feels possible, the app surfaces a simple invite flow: pick friends, send the plan, and let Rodeo handle the logistics so you don’t have to copy-paste links across six different chats. The company frames this as a “second brain” for your social life — a place that quietly manages details while you decide whether you actually want to go.

The founders’ pedigree is part of Rodeo’s story. Sam Levy and Tim MacGougan, who left senior roles at Hinge, launched the app with the explicit goal of solving the friction that accumulates inside already-connected networks. That background shapes Rodeo’s posture: it isn’t trying to be another social feed or meet-new-people market; it’s a utility for the existing social fabric. The team has been careful about how they talk about the technology, too — even as they use large language models and AI to parse messy inputs, they’ve avoided branding the product as an “AI app” in marketing, preferring to position the feature as a practical helper rather than the whole point.

Rodeo’s public footprint is still small but noticeable. The app is currently in an invite-only beta on iOS, and the company says a wider launch is planned for 2026. Early traction here is measurable: reporting suggests the waitlist and beta have already drawn thousands of signups and several thousand active early users, a sign that the product resonates with people who recognize the problem it’s trying to solve. For now, the team is focused on landings — smoothing the experience of turning saved stuff into plans, building collaborative lists, and iterating on what actually leads to people showing up.

There are two big questions that hover over this kind of product. One is privacy: to do its work, Rodeo asks users to feed it screenshots or links from private conversations and social feeds. That raises clear trade-offs about where parsing happens, how data is stored, and who sees what. The company’s early messaging emphasizes that Rodeo is meant to sit alongside existing chat apps and social platforms rather than replace them, but the technical details of data handling will matter a great deal if the app hopes to scale beyond early adopters. The other question is habit change: people are notoriously bad at moving from inspiration to action. Rodeo’s bet is that better tooling — lists that survive chats, invites that carry context, automatic aggregation of logistics — can close that gap. Whether convenience is enough to overcome inertia is the product question the team has to answer.

Rodeo is also part of a broader cultural moment. Researchers and commentators have been talking about a “friendship recession” and the difficulty of maintaining adult friendships amid career pressure, parenting, and geographic dispersion. Tech entrepreneurs have responded with a flurry of niche tools: apps to meet new people, dedicated event platforms, and now, tools aimed squarely at converting existing interest into real-world time together. Rodeo’s distinctive claim is that the highest-leverage work isn’t matching or discovery — it’s coordination. If its utility proves true for enough people, that’s not a flashy winner-take-all product; it’s a steady, useful layer of infrastructure for social life.

For now, Rodeo is quietly asking for the most intimate kind of beta feedback: whether its helpers actually produce meetups. The invite-only mode lets the founders watch what people save, how they invite, and whether the chain from “this looks fun” to “we’ll meet at 7 pm” actually closes. If the app can reliably turn screenshots into showups, it will have solved something both simple and stubborn — and it may point the way toward an era of social apps that prize presence over attention.