Umbrellas, an optometrist's dream

I awoke this morning to the sound of thunder and rain. At first, this was the sweetest sound in the world because it meant that it wasn't going to be hot as balls outside today. Then, as the sleep wore off, I realized just how wrong I was. Not about the heat, oh no, it was a beautiful 76 or so degrees outside, but about how nice of a day it would be. You see, even a slight amount of mist will instantly produce short people with umbrellas.
Since I stand at about 73 inches, a good amount of people are shorter than me. This means a majority of umbrellas are at exactly eye level with me. To be more precise, the pointy little metal protrusions that circle the edge of the umbrella are at eye level with me. Consequentially I would be spending the entire day try to prevent blindness.
Of course, like clockwork, I am no more than 20 feet outside my building when I encounter my first eye-gouger. Since I was behind this one, it was easy to avoid, until it came time to pass this person on the sidewalk. This bitch was not only walking half my speed, but also walking down the middle of the sidewalk, therefore, with the umbrella's radius, the whore was taking up the entire sidewalk. As usual, I had to walk in the grass. Anyway, I spent the next 15 minutes trying to get to class on time all while trying to avoid having one of my precious sight-orbs oh so violently plucked from my skull.
I just don't understand why people whip out the protective rain gear at the slightest sign of precipitation. Despite all the uproar about acid rain, it's not going to hurt you. However, your umbrella will hurt me. I need my eyes, I use them to see things.