I don’t know WHO could pinch a person at work in this cynical harassment-ridden world, but there must be someone, and I must be on my guard. This morning in my bleary haze, I was only aware enough to plop on the teakettle for my pre-measured coffee and press ‘refresh’ on the weather forecast. How was I to know it was St. Patrick’s Day? How was I to know, as I snuggled into a cream sweater, that I was committing the second or third transgression against Irish-American tradition of my young life?

If you see a pincher, tell them I went that way. points