Has Pacman Jones learned to control his temper?

We had a very special guest on A concourse today. None other than Pacman "Adam" Jones.

Mr. Jones (not to be confused with our illustrious poster) was traveling with two women on a cheap ticket that routed him through our city, which is not a hub nor a major connection point.

One of said travel companions, in a rush to make it through security between the two concourses, didn't put her shoes back on after screening. When she tried to board the plane, our gate agent told her, "No shoes, no service," citing safety issues walking down the jetway and then the tarmac to reach the 50-seat plane.

This woman was hot. I mean, Damn hot. You'll see the relevance in shortly.

So, the companion, in an effort to be discreet, leans against the window overlooking the tarmac to replace her shoes. She bends over, in a somewhat provocative manner, to tie the shoes. What she didn't realize was that all of our ramp personnel (save the one lone female) were gawking as her pleasantly shaped buttock was outlined in the window very nicely in her extremely tight pants.

Mr. Jones noticed the gawking and started to fume. He grunted (that's really the best way to describe the noise he made to her) his displeasure, so she turned to the side, which just made matters worse, since her pleasantly shaped breasts could be seen by the public on the concourse, since her sweater was loose fitting.

Mr. Jones, ever the pragmatist, picks her up, fireman carry style, carries her down the jetway and to the plane. Amazingly, he did not stop to punch any personnel, nor were any guns discharged.

Quite the scene for our little airport.

 

First thing that comes to mind: Mongo like Sheriff Bart...

 

The story's even better in full length. I love the idea of him picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder.

I can't imagine he blended in well in that airport.

 

He did stand out a bit, IJAG.

 

Curse you Dan Backslide {/doverboys}