She came to my door. The story (no reason to doubt): she needed to call roadside assistance, phone died. I dialed the number on my flip phone (symbol of stubbornness), then remembered the trouble I was having with calls and told her. She helped me find where to turn up playback volume (though not the problem), and after her successful call tried to talk to me about how it worked for her, etc. Frustration and weariness with phone culture bubbled up and I told her I didn't want to talk about phones or phone troubleshooting, I had been on service calls with the provider and was going to get another one anyway (flip phone!), and though she was having a bad day she was lucky her call went through OK. My rant ended with me yelling loudly as she walked away, "FUCK YOUR PHONES!!!!" Lady, I'm sorry and I wish I had been able to assist you with follow-up instead of chasing you away. But I had zero patience for strangers who come to my door and then start talking about phones. Karma was all the calls I got from roadside assistance and the tow truck driver for the rest of the evening. If I picked up, no one could hear me.