How my iPhone almost got 100 people killed

Last summer I went to visit a friend of mine who lives abroad. I had a great time, and on the day of my return I was looking forward to sharing the experiences I had just had with my friends and family. So I went to the airport and got on a plane. When we were about to take off, we were requested to disconnect our mobile devices, as usual. I meekly reached into my pocket to pull out my iPhone and comply, but when I attempted to turn it off, it just wouldn't. The button that locks the iPhone, which also happens to be the only means to turn it off, had quietly passed away.

So, there I was, holding a ticking bomb in a plane whose pilots where about to unwittingly start the take off routine based on wrong readings and corrupt signals. I grew increasingly unsteady. I realized (or at least, at that moment, it seemed what was likely to happen) that if I told the crew about my mishap, they would notify the pilots who, outraged, would eventually have me thrown in jail for introducing such a dangerous device in an airplane. I panicked but, in an act of unprecedented bravery, I pulled a key out of my pocket and without thinking twice I sank it into the button, managing to pull its last breath out of it and turn off the damned device. We would all live.

Despite this awful experience, I still keep my iPhone. It is now unlockable, of course, and that comes not without a cost. My phone has got into the habit of calling people on his own more regularly (it already did that before the lock button broke down, just not as frequently). Sometimes, that can be disastrous. A couple of weeks ago, I was celebrating something (can't recall what exactly) with a friend. Somehow, it was suddenly five in the morning and we were shaking our booties (or sort of) in a local dump. I did something with my phone and put it back into my pocket. Then it rang, and when I pulled it out of my pocket  I was surprised to see it was my mother. Weird. I realized that answering the call to deliver a mixture of overly loud flamenco music and an attempt to talk without slurring would have been pointless, so I decided to hang up and text her instead, just to know if anything was wrong. While I was trying to type the words 'What's wrong?' (it took a while) she herself texted me: 'What's wrong?'. It all became clear then. My phone had pulled one of his pranks on me. I texted her back saying how my beloved iPhone had called her out of his own will. She understood, for she also has an iPhone and knows how normal this can be.

The next day, she told me that she had got hysterical when I called her at five in the morning, and that it took me ten minutes to text her back. How wasted must I have been....

Maybe I should rather say that my iPhone almost got 101 people killed. My mother could have died of a heart attack during those ten minutes.