How your Apple iPhone could save you from movie murderers

I have been rather ill.

It is, I think, a degree of penance for the quiet sniggering I did when the UK was beset with an annoying strain of vomiting flu whilst I was sitting in sunny San Francisco.

Not a full 24 hours after I returned to these windy shores and I was struck down. Energy departed my body quicker than a fully charged mobile battery that’s seen better days. Quickly, walking about became an arse and I became uber lethargic. Headaches. The whole shebang minus vomiting.

Sharing a bed with my other half, an unbelievably light sleeper, I spent most of the first night awake, staring into space, unable to sleep and thus using up brain compute cycles thinking about my Phones4U experience and coming up with all sorts of things that I must post, here.

In order to record my semi coherent thoughts, I reached for the nearest handset — the iPhone. A masterly choice, I thought, after I tapped away on it, recognising what an excellent handset it would be if you were in a horror film.

You know the kind I mean: The killer, brandishing a huge bloodied knife and a murderous ego, is slowly pacing the room. Our heroine is crouched behind some sofa or something, resplendent in ruined makeup that serves to make her look that bit more wanton — think: managed attractiveness. Her handset is out and, well, she can’t afford to make a sound while she texts for help. Not one sound. This is usually where a I think ‘throw a stone or something wayyyyy over that way’ so that the killer will run through to the next room, but it usually never happens. Often the heroine, doing a brilliant job of staying quiet, then notices her best friend’s severed hand or something, tries to suppress her screams, fails, draws appropriate killer attention and the action continues.

If the producers kitted her out with a Blackberry whilst she was sat behind the sofa, the killer would immediately hear the click-click-click of the keys as she typed out her message of help. Or she’d have some shocking Motorola that makes an earthquake inducing tone with every key press (the kind that, unfortunately, many Americans still sport). That kind of Motorola would get our heroine discovered in no time at all.

If only she could text Rory, her equally heroic and artfully chiseled boyfriend whom we thought was killed off earlier but was, thankfully, only slightly damaged (he was paid $15m for the movie, obviously he won’t die in the first act) and is now 4 scenes behind, chasing to the rescue.

Well, if she had an iPhone, she could.

It’s perfect for texting when there’s a murderer nearby trying to discover you. That’s because it’s entirely quiet, provided you’ve put the sound off (and, er the vibrate).

I used my iPhone on and off across my sleepless night and didn’t wake up my other half at all. That wouldn’t have been possible with any other handset, I don’t think. I was just delighted with this feature. Tapping doesn’t cause any sound at all. Genius. I hadn’t really recognised this ‘feature’.

The only issue? The home button.

Since I’d become attuned to zero sound emission from the device whilst I worked away on it, I was a bit put out every time I had to swap application. The home button, you see, makes a slight click. Arse. Every time I pressed, I waited for a few seconds to see if she woke up. She’s never impressed if she’s awoken for no good reason. I certainly understand that a sick fiancee poncing about with a bright-screened iPhone for a half the night doesn’t quite qualify as a good reason.

I learned to gently depress the home key. It still makes a small click. But it’s not that bad.

Good, I imagine, for [boring] meetings as well, when the click-click-click of Blackberries can really draw attention to your deep lack of interest.