Terrycloth Steed

Someone actually spent ten minutes folding a plush white bath towel into an absurdly smug swan, leaving it perched on the cabana's teak side table like patio royalty. Naturally, I couldn't let that kind of unearned posture slide. I scrambled up the slatted table leg, marched across the warm wood, and hoisted myself straight onto its curved terrycloth back like a proper war steed. The folded wings dipped under my boots, but the cotton neck held firm. I grabbed the tucked beak, gave it a cocky tilt toward the sunbeds, and settled into the plush dip with crossed arms. Dallas cabana service just got a serious upgrade.