Once upon a time, not too many moons ago, I found myself lost. I had just got off the last bus, and it was raining quite heavily.
When I thought things couldn't get any worse, my phone died. My only form of communication - gone. I didn't even have a charger or powerbank, so you could say I was well and truly screwed.
Being the resourceful, quick thinking legend that I am (after some mild to moderate panicking) I realised I would have to find a phone box somewhere if I had any chance of getting home - without my dad sending out a search party.
The trouble was, there aren't many phone boxes around anymore, at least not working ones.
After an excruciating 30 minute walk through the rain, I finally found one - hope at last! However, this short burst of ecstasy was quickly dampened by the foul stench of stale urine.
I also came to the realisation that I only had 25p in my pocket and this absolute relic of a phonebox probably didn't Google Pay either. So I had 60 seconds to call my mum, explain where I was, and where to pick me up from before the evil phone box cut me off.
Nevertheless, I persevered. I picked up the phone (with a tissue around my hand of course, there's no chance I was going to touch this petri dish of diseases) and held it a safe distance from my face - close enough to hear the subtle hum of the dial tone, and far enough so it wouldn't touch my face. I called my mum, and had the fastest 60 second conversation of my life.
And the was the first and only time I used a public phone box.
Moral of the story, charge your phone, and always have spare change.