Sometimes it's better to go with the flow than rail against your predicament. In fact, once in a while that perceived predicament ends up being a blessing in disguise. I learned this lesson a few weeks ago when my company, a health-care information-technology firm, rolled out a new marketing tactic at a show in Las Vegas.

To lure in attendees, tempt them to spend considerable time talking with staffers, and gather a bit of industry research, we developed an extensive survey that attendees would take via iPads in the booth. In exchange for participating in the 10-minute study, each participant would receive a $50 Amazon gift card.

Prior to the show, we targeted a list of attendees we wanted to talk to and sent them a direct-mail invite to schedule an appointment to take the survey. This way, salespeople could come prepared to have a customized conversation with each participant.

We also arranged to have eight iPads upon which attendees would take the survey. Since wired Internet is so expensive, we decided to use cellular service to access the Web. Badge scanners were also part of the package we'd purchased, so we didn't have to rent them from show management.

Thankfully, all of our plans seemed to be panning out. When my staff and I left for the show, 94 attendees (a figure that had already surpassed our goal) had booked at-show meetings to complete the survey. Plus, the on-site training the day before the show went well. Right before we left for the night, we plugged the eight iPads and lead scanners into a charging strip so they'd be fully powered by the next morning.

When I arrived back at the booth around 7:30 a.m. the next day, two hours before the show opened, I set about organizing the lead-gathering stations, checking for fingerprints on the graphics, etc. Eventually, I stepped into the storage room to pull and prep the iPads and scanners. I picked up a couple of them, started toward the door, and glanced down at their battery-power icons â?" and then my heart stopped. Both iPads were barely registering a charge. I set down the two near-dead devices and grabbed a couple more. As it turned out, every single one of the iPads was just barely "alive," and the same was true for the scanners.

Then it dawned on me. Unlike most convention centers, The Sands doesn't offer 24-hour electrical service unless you pay for it. And clearly, I had not. We had left our iPads powered on and plugged in all night, but they weren't receiving a charge until the electricity came back on a few minutes ago. So all our devices and the hand-held lead scanners were just one step above dead as a doornail.

With roughly an hour before the show opened, I plugged all of the devices back in and said a silent prayer to the electricity gods to charge our devices faster than normal. Then I pulled my crew together for a powwow. We decided to let everything charge until the show opened, and we planned to use only four of the iPads, while the remaining four charged a bit longer. As soon as one of the first four bit the dust, we'd switch it out for one with more power. Next, I ran over to show management and rented a couple of scanners just to be sure we could collect lead info.

As the first attendees arrived at the booth, I breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that we at least had a Band-Aid plan in place that would help us limp through the day. But not more than 15 minutes later, we discovered another, perhaps even more troubling, issue. When the show opened and 42,000 attendees started tweeting, texting, emailing, and whatnot, the speed of cellular-service transmission plummeted to dial-up levels. So as attendees attempted to complete the online survey, it was taking two minutes merely to move from one screen to the next. At that rate, our 10-minute survey would take people at least 30 minutes. Granted, the charge on our four iPads was holding up, but it made no difference at that point. People were bailing mid survey, so we needed to switch gears.

I hated to completely abandon the survey altogether, so I decided to simply transition it to a post-show activity. I had staff explain that we'd had a technological glitch, but that we'd appreciate if they would take the survey after the show. We promised to send them a link to the survey as soon as the show ended. Of course, booth staffers explained, anyone with preset meetings would get their $50 gift card, but we hoped attendees would stick around to talk with staffers and learn more about our firm.

As we rolled out our Plan B, I envisioned our lead counts and quality time with attendees going up in flames. But much to my surprise, attendees stayed to chat with staffers for 15 minutes on average. And by our analysis, people likely stayed longer than they would have if they'd actually completed the 10-minute survey first.

Following the show, we emailed the survey link to roughly 65 people, and more than 50 percent of those recipients took part. Granted, it would have been nice to have gotten a few more survey responses to give us further insight into our audience. But all in all, sending the survey after the show had little effect on our lead counts, and it gave staffers time to better qualify prospects and relay even more product information than our original "Plan A" strategy.

I wouldn't want to relive this snafu, as I think it resulted in a gray hair or two. But since we were able to roll with the punches and not crumble at the first sign of trouble, our "oops" incident was more of an "aha" moment, and clearly a blessing in disguise.