Wrong place, right time?

There was an old guy (okay, not super old, but rather old, if you know what I mean...with white hair) sitting on the little patch of grass beside the entrance to the Blaise Pascal parking lot when I came to work this morning. He was sitting there reading...a magazine or a paper, I don't remember which. It wouldn't have been so noteworthy if he wasn't sitting on a type of folding chair (at least I think it's foldable, it looked clothlike to me), wearing a wide-brimmed hat (not unlike a straw hat)...dressed in a shirt and shorts, exactly like some old guy relaxing on a beach.

Except that this isn't a beach. It was just a patch of grass, at the edge of a parking lot...in the shade. (at least that last part makes sense. lol)