I'm a bad person

I got a disabled guy fired from a volunteer job.  Well, sorta.  He helped.

I feel badly.  Really, I do.

I've been attending a series of events at a local theater and have been very dismayed at the noise level coming from the seats behind me.  At multiple events . . .

At one event, someone was sitting back there clipping his fingernails.

Yes, clipping his fingernails.  And judging by the number of clicks, he must have an outrageous number of fingers.

At another event, there was a nearly constant crinkling and rustling of some sort of candy or chip wrapper coming from the same location.  It was never ending and completely distracting.

My companion and I were besides ourselves.  We just couldn't attend another event like this.  So we decided that we had to ask the management to speak to the culprit.

I made it very clear to management that we weren't complaining, just requesting that someone let him know how noisy he was being and ask him to stop. 

Not quite how it worked out . . .

To my chagrin, our request turned out to be the last straw.  As a manager, I completely understand reaching the end of your rope with an employee, etc.  There are only so many times you can go to someone asking for improvement.  After a while, you understand that it's a losing proposition.

I just had no intention, in this situation, of being the one who added that final straw to the camel's back . . .