I didn’t buy the damn thing for the convenience of others, and when I accidentally go off without it, forgetful as I am, I refuse to sweat it. Let the people get their undies in a bunch; I don’t care. Say to me, “But you didn’t answer your phone!” and I will say to you, “I’m not the fire department.”
And I’ve never once needed my phone in an emergency, except that time that I got lost in the middle of the night in Santiago and had such a slow internet connection that I couldn’t make Google maps work for me, and except for that time that some drug-addled man followed me home on my evening walk, and except for that time some homeless guy assaulted me and the kids in the church parking lot.
I bet you’d love to hear those stories, but I’m not going to tell you, because now my undies are in a bunch, too, and I need to go pull them out.