You'd be best off checking the deserted back room of your favorite shoe store. These little gentlemen only grow to be about 2 feet tall and are grumpy loners. They are also obsessed with shoes. Frequently clothed in the garb of an old school shoemaker, with cocked hat and leather apron, they spend the majority of their time making footwear.

Legend has it, each one of these scowling, footwear fetish type fellows lays claim to their very own pot of gold. Once caught, a leprechaun must reveal the hidden location of his personal treasure. I don't know who came up with that rule, but no wonder the tiny grumpy men are so pissed and evasive. If you had to empty your savings account to the next person you ran into, wouldn't you be a little antisocial?

If you're bent on being a treasure seeker this St. Paddy's Day, listen for the sound of a shoemakers hammer to lead you to said leprechaun and his pot o' gold. But I urge you to let the poor things alone, go drink some green beer and call it a day.