Hunting for Hot Pockets

If you think having a Plan B is enough to avoid every disaster, think again. In fact, sometimes even a Plan B, Plan C, and Plan D aren’t enough. If this sounds like overkill, you’ve never tried to buy a refrigerator-case full of Hot Pockets on Sunday night in Las Vegas, which was exactly what I was doing the night before the 2007 National Association of Convenience Stores show.

I’m the event and promotions coordinator for Nestlé FoodServices North America, which produces Hot Pockets sandwiches. To showcase our product and drive traffic to our booth, we usually hand out samples of yummy Hot Pockets in our exhibit.

During setup, I discovered our key giveaway — Hot Pockets — were MIA. If we didn’t find a new supply, the cold-case refrigerator in our booth would be empty, and we wouldn’t have any samples to hand out. Making matters worse, we had planned to unveil some new twists to the product line, including Hot Pockets that are cooked on a roller grill, which is typically used for hot dogs.

Since the discovery was made three days before the show, I wasn’t immediately panicked. I had been to too many shows where my Hot Pockets or other food items had gone AWOL, and I’d later discovered them simply sitting on a loading dock. Plus, our distribution center had a habit of shipping products to us at the last minute, and despite some near misses, they’d always come through in the past.

In any case, I wasn’t too concerned about my truant treats, though I did search the exhibit hall. But as Friday wore on without any news on my Hot Pockets’ whereabouts, I decided to call my reps at our customer-service center, which handles product requests for shows. After they had checked into my problem, customer service finally came back with some bad news: The Hot Pockets order was not in the system, and therefore never shipped, even though I had a confirmation number.

My heart sank. It was now late Friday afternoon and there was no way to get the order pushed through and delivered from our distribution center in Los Angeles to Las Vegas in time for the Monday opening. In fact, the best they could do was place a new order that could be shipped Tuesday to be delivered late Wednesday.

I couldn’t believe my ears. My order had been lost, and the soonest my own company could fix the problem was the last day of the show. Obviously, that wasn’t going to work. My refrigerator case was empty, and what promised to be a long weekend was now upon me.

Needing a new source — any source — of Hot Pockets, I grabbed my Blackberry and started rapid-fire calling and e-mailing my sales team to see if any local food brokers, the companies that supply small retailers who buy by the case rather than the pallet, had Hot Pockets they could lend me. Unfortunately, it was late Friday afternoon and all my voicemails and e-mails went unanswered.

I continued to call and e-mail through the weekend, but it became apparent that unless my sales team had scored some Hot Pockets from a broker as they traveled to the show, I was going to have to wait until Monday to get results. Unfortunately, as my team began to arrive on Sunday, they shared more bad news. They didn’t connect with anyone over the weekend. As Sunday came to an end, I still didn’t know how I was going to get the Hot Pockets I needed.

Fortunately, Monday morning would see me find three sources of Hot Pockets for the show — and in the end, I would need every last one.

Heading to the show floor Monday morning in need of a Hot Pocket epiphany, I remembered a 7-Eleven store across the street from the convention center.

With less than an hour until the show opened, I hightailed it to the 7-Eleven and bought every Hot Pocket in the joint, which turned out to be about 36 sandwiches, barely enough to keep my case from looking barren, and certainly not enough to last one day let alone three. But, it was a start.

We put the three dozen Hot Pockets in the cold case. We planned to serve them on request rather than the usual non-stop sampling we typically offered at shows. I knew we would still run out by the day’s end, leaving me with an empty case for the final two days.

Next, I decided to enlist the help of my divisional vice president. Calling customer service again, I handed him the phone hoping he’d have better luck getting the order pushed through so we could have our product delivered on Tuesday morning. But his success with customer service was only a little better than my own. Yes, they would put together an order for us, but we would have to pick it up ourselves because they didn’t have a truck going to Las Vegas until Wednesday.

I called my exhibit house which had an office not far from our L.A. distribution center to see if they could pick up the Hot Pockets and get them to Las Vegas before the show opened on Tuesday. Yes, they could do it, but it was going to cost $1,000. That’s some expensive Hot Pockets, but they were worth every cent at this point.

Finally, my sales team had connected with a local broker, who promised us enough Hot Pockets to cover Tuesday, just in case something happened with the product coming from Los Angeles. I figured I’d take what I could get, especially since our paltry supply of snack sandwiches was fast running out despite our selective distribution tactic.

The show was half over on Monday — and our fridge had been empty for some time — when we received the product from the broker. Quickly, we restocked our fridge, and I let out a major sigh of relief knowing I finally had enough Hot Pockets to make it through the show.

The situation only got better on Tuesday, when an employee from our exhibit house showed up about a half an hour before the show floor opened with a van full of dry ice and the order of Hot Pockets that I originally needed. We now had plenty of our snack sandwiches to serve the attendees.

While it felt like I had to move a mountain just for some Hot Pockets, I was able to serve up the sandwiches each day of the show by having not one, not two, but three cool alternatives up my sleeve.

— Diane Aquino-Medina, event and promotions coordinator, Nestlé FoodServices North America, Glendale, CA