George didn't like this whole obsession with 

third places

that everybody was talking about. To him he didn't need a third place. He woke up at home, went to work, and when that was done he wanted to come back home. He wondered why anybody wouldn't want to be home. But as he thought more and more about it, he noticed that people who wanted third places were usually people who lived alone. Or if not alone, with people who weren't "loved ones".

George was lucky because he came home to a loving family. An actual home rather than just a residence. He had a coworker who was in his early 30s who had moved to town for the job and didn't know too mahy people. He wished he knew more people, and he would grab drinks with George here and there. But he really needed friends his own age... preferably without a family so that they could see each other more often George could leave the house only so often. George felt bad for the guy.