He sits slouched poolside.
Amid the tanned teen-age surfer, the gum-clacking tween and the mom with two rambunctious boys, the walrus is sprawled, seemingly doing nothing, pulling a Puddy.
A walrus is at every public pool.
Amid the chaos of normal water-loving, sunbathing vacationers, the walrus holds court, fold upon fold, collapsed in his lounge chair with no purpose in life.
He's usually gray, always tan, sometimes with a drink.
He's watching the activity around him, seemingly interested, never engaged.
A lump in a lounge chair.
Every pool. Every time.