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The importance of mobile phones is paramount as shall be illustrated in this short tale. When I was fifteen years old, my friends and I went to an abominable dive in Neasden which had the audacity to categorise itself as a ‘nightclub’. Plagued with perverted weird men, sticky floors, watered down bootleg alcohol, and terrible music, it was the last place on earth you’d want to be unless you were too young to get in anywhere else.

Two and a half hours into the night and my friend who was always the drunken liability of our youth had disappeared. Not too anxious as she was usually to be found asleep in a cubicle, I only looked for her half an hour later. She was not to be found however, and she had left all her belongings in the cloakroom, including her money, travel card, and keys. Then panic commenced as she was very drunk when last seen and had left all means of going anywhere in the cloakroom. The police had to be called and were her parents! If only she had gone to Three.co.uk/store and bought herself a phone!