Q. When is snow not snow?

A. When there is no snow.

I have experienced two long, harsh, arctic New York winters. Winters when the snow would fall so hard and fast that within just a couple of hours cars would be completely submerged in the stuff for days on end. There would be so much snow that people would actually ski through Times Square. So much snow, in fact, that people were physically trapped in their buildings and you could not see your hand before your face! Airports would close, trains would stop running and old people would die. But, somehow, us gainfully employed would still manage to get to work without complaining too much. We would even still have enough good humour, when we arrived, bedraggled and tired, to look out of our skyscraper office windows and take in the view. The snow would melt our hearts and we would say, "Aw! It's quite pretty really!"

So, dear Londoners, let me reliably inform you that barely, barely, an inch of snow on the ground does not represent a catastrophic Act of God. It does not constitute a citywide emergency. And there is most certainly no earthly reason why it should make you almost twenty minutes late to pick me up this morning, Mr Thoroughly Annoying Chatty Taxi Driver.

I had to be up by 6am this morning to get a 7am taxi to get to Waterloo train station to get an 8am train to Havant to get to a 10am new business pitch. I had a very specific time line to adhere to in order to get to this meeting by the designated time. And not lose my job. Because a new business pitch that you are leading is one meeting you cannot be late for. Lateness will not cut it and will not win you the business.

Despite the lateness of the taxi, I manage to get on the train on time. Once seated, all around me, all I can hear, are comments such as:

"I could barely open my front door!"

"It took me two whole minutes to wipe it off my windshield!"

"I thought that the tube might not be running!"

Ok, can we take a reality check, please? First, as I stated, there was hardly an inch of snow. Secondly, most of the snow melted - there was no slush or ice on either the pavements or on the roads. I will concede that there were a few puddles. So actually the most dangerous thing that could have happened is that you could have stepped in a deep puddle and made your shoes wet (a phenomenon you should not be too unfamiliar with given that you live in London, you strange little idiots). In fact by morning, the only place where there was any snow was in the parks and in the fields that I passed while I was on the train.

Back to the train - eventually people shut up about all the wetness snow and I could finally read through the pitch document and make notes without being supremely irritated. Then, all of a sudden, the train grinds to a halt and the conductor makes an announcement...

"Sorry for the delay ladies and gentlemen. It seems that there are some problems with the snow on the tracks this morning. We should be moving again in a few minutes."

AN INCH!!! AN INCH OF SNOW!!!

I know you're all very concerned that I may not have got to the pitch in time. Well somehow, by the grace of God, I did. With ten minutes to spare I victoriously and purposely stride up to the reception desk of the company that I’ve come to visit.

"Christopher from [London PR agency], here to see [Marketing Director] please."

"Oh yes. Christopher. [Marketing Director] just called in. She's running late and apologises. It's just that she's had problems with the snow."

I think the heat from my burning and unbridled anger melted any remaining snow within a 26-mile radius.

(Incase you were wondering, it snowed in the South of England last night.)