Butt-dialing

I've been on the receiving end of this new cultural happening called "butt-dialing" a few times.  It's usually from a work friend and it's always happened while he's cutting firewood with a chain saw so that when I'm yelling hello into my phone, he cannot hear me.

To my recollection, however, I don't remember ever making a butt-dial call myself, until a few days ago.

Returning home from my daily walk, about 3 blocks from home, in front of the law office at about 11:30 AM I hear a voice saying: Bob, Bob, BOBBB!  I look around, up and down Main Street and at the moment our village Main Street is devoid of humankind.  You can imagine, I'm befuddled and unable to identify where from someone is calling my name until I realize the voice is emanating from my left wrist!

Having recently purchased a new Samsung tracking watch and having never heard it talking to me before, I tentatively raise my wrist to my face and stutteringly say hel, hell, Hello?  In reply I hear my sister's frantic voice asking if I'm ok?  I said "yes, I'm fine, just finishing up my morning walk, why?"

She had received a call from my phone and when she answered it, she only heard a rustling sound which she interpreted as gurgling, gasping attempts at speaking and she wondered if I'd had and accident, stroke, or some mishap and was calling for help.  Getting no discernable reply, she texted my daughter who in turn texted me and receiving no reply responded that I wasn't answering her texts. (My daughter and sister live a 4 hours' drive, in opposite directions,) from my home.

Finally, my old age hearing and novice at technology brain figured out what was happening, and we got everything cleared up.  She asked me if there was anyone, neighbor, friend, or otherwise, nearby my home that she could call in case of a repeat pocket-dial or, heaven forbid, a true emergency?

Half glibly, half truthfully, I said all my old friends, and neighbors have moved away or died.

Finally, I did provide her with my neighbor's phone number, after clearing it with my neighbor.

A humorous vignette yet one fraught with serious warning for those of us who live alone.  You need a contact person who can check on you when questions arise about your welfare.