By now, it should be obvious that I take my job as an opinionated jerk very seriously. For the past few weeks, the editors at The Cheers have given me ample space to partake in what my father calls “a little R and R” (Ranting and Raving). I am eternally grateful. Whether you know it or not – whether anyone really cares is something entirely different – this isn’t always easy. Sure, we all have our viewpoints. Sure, we all voice them to friends and co-workers. But not all opinions are created equally; sometimes it’s better to leave perspectives in the dark corners of our minds, the crevices usually reserved for ideas to wither and die well out of earshot.

In that mass of gray matter that is my brain, those dark places do not exist, and because I lack the needed social filters most people possess, I rarely have a thought that goes unspoken. I used to tell friends I had a sickness, that God cursed me to walk the earth as an incurable smartass. Okay, maybe not as smart as an ass but I didn’t coin the phrase.

Leading a life of sarcasm has been a mixed bag, to say the least. A quick wit makes me the life of any party where surly malcontents have taken up residence near the most secluded corner of the room. Any time you have someone willing to make scathing comments about innocent bystanders, you’ve got yourself a Good Time Charlie.

At the same time, though, I’ve plowed through two marriages faster than many Hollywood celebrities have. My mouthiness hasn’t exactly helped me get any employee-of-the-month awards. But those are just the breaks, kid, and to be completely honest I don’t fancy myself the marrying type anyway. As for the work history … let’s just say it’s not easy finding a boss who values candor.

Which brings me to my point: bosses.

I know I’m not the first person to complain about a supervisor, but I do believe I’m the only human being alive to have had the pleasure of working for some of the most insane people since man began earning a living through manual labor. Put a complete psychotic in charge of a company and I’m sure to find myself on their payroll and under their command. I’m not just talking about demanding individuals either. Take Hitler, Pol Pot and Ted Bundy, then place those personalities in the body of a black woman with an affinity for red hair dye and you have my last employer.

I don’t mention this because I’m a bitter little worker bee. There’s probably some universal company policy stating bosses have to surrender compassion and common sense before they can occupy the corner office. Hey, if they can do that and still look in the mirror in the morning, then I tip my hat to them. It’s when those same heartless souls do something ludicrous such as firing a woman over the size of her breasts that I get somewhat bent out of the frame.

Consider the case of Alice Alyse, a 29-year-old dancer who was recently fired from a Broadway musical because she apparently gained a full cup size while recovering from an injury that kept her off stage for a year. According to a Washington Post article, Alyse claims the anatomically specific weight gain was the result of not dancing during that time. Once she healed and reclaimed her spot as an ensemble dancer for the musical Movin’ Out, the producers reportedly took issue with her new figure and fired Alyse. She’s since filed a $100 million lawsuit.

Because the producers of Movin’ Out have declined to comment, there’s no way of knowing their side of this tawdry tale. My issue with that, however, is this: does it really matter whether we hear their side? Who cares if this woman was a “team player” or not, if she was late or on time for rehearsals, if she wore the same leotard three days in a row? The fact remains that her bosses laid her off over matters beyond her control.

I hope Alyse wins her lawsuit. If I were the judge I’d not only award her the $100 million, I’d put her in charge of these producers. She couldn’t fire them, but she could make their lives absolute hell until she finds satisfaction.

One of their first jobs as her lackeys: wash all of her bras by hand.