Day 4: Irene's revenge

This morning I received the bill for the hotel minibar.

Somewhere up in Nova Scotia Irene is cackling her evil little head off.

And with that rather worrisome bit of news for the TBWA\London finance department, I must bring this blog to a close.

I've been Gabriel Miller -  Ambassador for Natural Disasters, TBWA\London.

Day three: an historic victory for TBWA\London!

Never in the history of "Ad Agency vs Weather Event" battles has a victory been as mercilessly one sided as this one.

As poor Irene whimpers her way embarrassingly out of New York as a mere Tropical Storm, I can't help but feel a little sorry for her. Where was all the flying scaffolding? The smashed windows? The power cuts? The dysentery?

I didn't even get the opportunity to loot the RadioShack opposite my hotel!!!

After all her pre-fight chat, Irene let herself down like a foulmouthed boxer getting knocked out in the first round. Making the TV news channels a very sheepish Don King.

 And TBWA\london, the undisputed champions of the world.

Day three: what's with all the rain?

Times square is getting a soaking right now. I know this because I just got a soaking with it.

P.S. The naked dude is not me.

Day two: I make my first mistake.

In retrospect I probably consumed the contents of the minibar a little prematurely. 

Day two: I venture outside.

If Saatchi & Saatchi were to send a representative to take on Hurricane Irene, he would probably be tucked up in bed in his 4 star hotel room sipping on a nice glass of perfectly chilled Fiji water round about now.

Not TBWA\London.

Instead, I have spent the past hour wandering the empty streets of the theatre district in the rain, occasionally looking to the sky and shouting "Irene!!!! Where art thou!!!".

Day two: hotel minibar - the "before" shot

The "after" shot will be posted in a day or two.

Day two: stocking up on the essentials, TBWA\London style

 Only a savage would have a mojito without a mojito rimmer. Hurricane or no hurricane.

Day two: I think my iPhone might be trying to tell me something...

Day two: it's raining.

Hard.

And the storm isn't even due to arrive for another 20 hours.

I only have suede shoes with me.

I wish I had an umbrella.

Day two: am I legend?

This morning an eerie quiet has descended over New York City. As the TV news talks about either evacuating the area or stocking up on such post apocalyptic items as batteries, flashlights, rope, water and ammunition I realise that the only things I have to survive the storm are 25 packs of Trident gum and far too many pairs of socks. Which is fine, providing socks become the new stable currency in any post hurricane NYC, which they almost certainly won't.

By the way, the below image is not a shot from the film "I am Legend". I just happened to bump into Will Smith this morning on Park Avenue. And what a very nice chap he is too.

The newspapers never lie.

Excellent news. Judging by todays front page of the Daily News the hurricane is heading straight to Manhattan, so I am in exactly the right place to take on the storm.

Day one: I lie in wait.

For the first time in my life I can use the phrase "the calm before the storm" in its most literal sense.

Although in actual fact I can't, because there is no calm. Not when you're sitting anywhere near the world's most neurotic man, Zaid Al-Zaidy. Fortunately, Zaid will be flying back to London in a few hours leaving me to tackle the Hurricane in the name of TBWA/London alone.

Having never experienced a hurricane before I know not what to expect. 

All I know is this: it will be windy.

Walking the streets of New York it feels like a City unaware. Am I the only person who knows this storm is approaching? Quite possibly so.