I often travel around France ; when I am in the hinterland, I love stopping in one of those bistros, in little villages ; they are the true and only places where citizens share their feelings.
Post-Offices are being closed down, no young zealots go to church these days, shops are mobile now, markets are getting super; the bistro is the only place to go now, when there is one left.
This is where I usually meet old but nevertheless ageless bachelors (why old ? because these people's furrowed faces do not change anymore after the age of thirty-five).
No one can tell if they have taken early retirement or if they have never worked since the days of their national service, they are a bit gruff, very wary but charming too because one can see something special in their eyes: loneliness.
The only person they share their feelings with is the owner of the bistro.
After a few millions glasses of red wine, a real bond exists between them, giving the loner a reason to live. At night, when he gets home, alone in his empty house, the loner will think about the conversation he has had with the only person he confides in. This is a good therapy, for he will do that again tomorrow. If I were our minister of Health, I would subsidise those bistros, because they should be treated as directed to the public benefit.