Shit I Hate: Giant Umbrellas

It's raining today. I was walking to work from the L, and there was a guy coming the other way down the sidewalk with a golf umbrella. This made little sense, since the sidewalk along the south side of Madison Street is, in fact, not a golf course, and this guy's body was nowhere near six feet wide.

Heed my words: if you are using a golf umbrella in a city, everyone else thinks you are an inconsiderate asshole. Because you are. I should not have to walk into the street or, God forbid, into a Starbucks, just to avoid getting my appropriately sized umbrella (or eyes or face or arm) punctured by some giant barb hanging down from the umbrella of some overly dry asshole who can't even see me given the size of his ridiculously large umbrella.

If your umbrella's diameter is as wide as the sidewalk, then you need to bring a smaller umbrella to work. For less than the price of a bucket of balls, you can get a nice, small umbrella that not only keeps you dry, but also fits into any size of messenger bag, briefcase, or backpack you might be carrying to work, and, most importantly, doesn't piss off everyone you force to move out of the way.