Feeding an Appetite for Beanie Babies

NORTHRIDGE — Most of the time, J.P. Pochron, homeless and often hungry, couldn’t care less about Beanie Babies--teenie or otherwise. But Friday was different.

Thanks to the bean bag-like stuffed animals that have reigned near the top of the toy world for the last three years, Pochron ate like a king Friday.

“I’m down on my luck right now,” said Pochron, surrounded by other people’s unwanted Happy Meals outside the McDonald’s on Parthenia Street. “So I’m happy to have the food.”

At the Northridge McDonald’s that Pochron was staking out, 1,992 Happy Meals were sold before 3 p.m. Friday, the first day of the new promotion.

The appetite for the toys seemed endless. For the burgers and fries, however, there was only so much room, even for Pochron, who planned to share the extras with his dog, Yo-Yo.

One man was in line at 5 a.m. to make sure he didn’t miss out. One woman bought 18 Happy Meals and told the manager she didn’t want the food.

A grandpa got his marching orders the night before: Don’t open the plastic wrapper. Don’t take off the tags.

“So the quest has begun,” said Aaron Moretzski, 56, who was only too happy to go on the hunt in Chatsworth on the day McDonald’s began distributing an estimated 240 million of the prized miniatures.

The fast-food empire is hoping to repeat last year’s phenomenon when Teenie Beanie Babies boosted sales more than any other promotion in McDonald’s history.

This time around, the restaurant is offering 12 Teenies, eight of which the toy’s manufacturer, Ty Inc., retired from the full-size roster at the beginning of May. Stores in Los Angeles made as many as six available Friday.

At noon, Carol Vallens, mother of two, was stretched over the counter at McDonald’s, a wad of bills in her left hand, her right hand waving directions.

The Teenie Beanie Babies were staring her down, like wanted men, from a poster under the lighted menu: Doby. Bongo. Twigs. Inch. Pinchers. Happy.

They were all here. Right now.

Her son, Ben, 10, carried a trayful of food back to their table, bags piled so high he couldn’t see above them.

Had he eaten yet?

“No, and it’s a good thing too,” he said, taking stock of the 10 meals his mother just bought, bringing to 16 her total Happy Meal purchases for the day.

Vallens carefully folded each of the Happy Meal bags, removing the food and Teenie Beanies.

“The bags are worth money,” she told her sons.

Elisabeth Loren, 8, begged her mom to take her and her sister Emily, 6, to McDonald’s for lunch.

“This is Bongo the monkey and Zip the giraffe,” she said, holding up her new toys.

“It’s OK,” said her mom, Theresa Loren. “You can go ahead and open them. They’re to play with.”

But other people had different ideas.

“I heard the last time they did this that people who have all 10 in the original bags can get $250 to $300 for them,” said Bill Nolan, 69, who woke up at 3 a.m. because he was so excited about the Beanies.

Nolan, who has 150 full-size Beanie Babies at home, bought 10 Happy Meals and gave the food to the guy behind him in line to take to feed his co-workers at the Gas Co.

During the last Beanie Baby go-around at McDonald’s, the chain was criticized for the large amount of food wasted by collectors only interested in the toys. This time Teenie Beanies are available for an additional $1.59 with any purchase. But the $1.99 hamburger Happy Meal, which includes the toy, is the cheapest option.

Heidi Lafountain, 22, waited in a long drive-up window line for her chance to buy the Beanies.

“We sent 10 people out from work to get as many as we could,” said Lafountain, who works at a nearby video store.

What was she going to do with all those Happy Meals?

She asked Pochron if he knew who could use them. He named several local soup kitchens, which she scrawled on an envelope.

For some the whole scene was a bit much.

“Wow,” said Sergio Cordero on seeing the Beanie-fueled line for lunch. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Still, Cordero bought three Happy Meals, one for each of his small children.

Pam Brown, who took her 7-year-old grandson for lunch, changed her order after waiting in line.

“I wasn’t going to get a Happy Meal but then I figured, why not?” said Brown, a collector of Depression-era glass. “At least Beanies don’t break in an earthquake.”

Josh Weinke, 18, said he was glad he was just a customer.

“This is way worse than the first time,” said Weinke, who is a former McDonald’s employee. “These people are crazy.”