The Last Weekend (The Happiest Place Finale III)

People are always saying that change is a good thing. But all they're really saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all... has happened. My store is closing this week. I own a store, did I ever tell you that? It's a lovely store, and in a week it'll be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap. Soon, it'll be just a memory. In fact, someone, some foolish person, will probably think it's a tribute to this city, the way it keeps changing on you, the way you can never count on it, or something. I know because that's the sort of thing I'm always saying. But the truth is... I'm heartbroken. I feel as if a part of me has died, and my mother has died all over again, and no one can ever make it right.

This is the piece of dialogue that immediately came to mind from the very moment I heard Higher Up say those (un)magical words, "I'm here to tell you that your store is closing." Its a line from one of my top ten favorite movies of all time, "You've Got Mail". Kathleen Kelley's bookstore, "The Shop Around the Corner" has finally closed, mostly due to lack of business because of the recent opening of book megastore Fox Books. Kathleen is AOL IM'ing (remember, this is 1998, hence the name of the movie) NY152 with her story. I decided that when I wrote my last The Happiest Place in the Mall post, this would be the monologue I would lead with.

And that time is now.

THE FINAL WEEKEND
Our store is closed. During the final week, our store had a 40% off sale going those first few days, and on Monday, we began to empty walls. Mostly the back corners that weren't very visible from the front of the store. By week's end, the back walls of the store was empty. When I closed the store on Friday night, we had moved tables to block off the famed Plush Mountain and all that surrounded it.

On Saturday morning, Charlotta came in, as did Bo Peep and Hollipop, then Snow White.  Baloo and Grumpy joined us later.  And the store was open one final time. The crowd came in fast and furious, buying handfuls and armfuls and bagfuls of basketfuls of stuff, this time at an additional 75% off. Irena, a guest who I had known from previous visits, had purchases amassing over $400, but when the discount came in, her final bill was around $130.

Slowly but surely, all of the sweatshirts were on stage. Then were gone. All of the t-shirts were on stage. Then were bought. All of the Sharpay bedroom playsets were on stage. Then were bought. All of the Hannah Montana dolls, all of the Wall*E action figures, all of the mini-snowglobes... all on stage, then all gone.

By the end of the day, this was The Happiest Place in the Mall.  High School Musical water bottles, some Camp Rock picture frames and a few other things that are out of the pic.  This was taken right inside the doorway of the store.

The tables we were using to keep people from going towards the now empty back of the store were moving farther and farther to the center of the store. Snow White and I spent most of the morning pulling out cases of merchandise from backstage, unpacking it then putting it onstage, where much of it would be snatched up almost immediately.

HOLD THIS
One lady came to me, shoving a shirt, a few Cars notebooks and a Hannah Montana doll in my hand. The line was at least 20 people deep, wrapping around much of the store, and she asked me to hold the merchandise. I told her that we couldn't hold it, much like I had told Mom 1 and Mom 2, and that we just wouldn't... and she cut me off, saying she only needed 15 minutes, she needed to go meet someone, can we just hold it for 15 minutes, please please, and I said, "Fine. Fifteen minutes. And then it has to go back out."

So, a quarter of an hour later, maybe a little more, Charlotta calls to me from behind the box office... "d$! Please get this stuff out of here! I'm tripping all over it!" I said, "Yep" and I grabbed it. Before I could take two steps, a gentleman in line said, "I'll take those notebooks!" I nodded and handed them over. I put back the sweatshirt and the Hannah Montana doll. And of course, a few minutes later, the woman comes back in. I simply said, "I'm sorry ma'am, we had to put it back out." She huffed, she rolled her eyes and walked away. On a normal day, I would have been concerned--actually, on a normal day, we would have held the stuff for her--but today? Our last day of business... its gone. No concern. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? Sorry. Only a little. I was nice about, though.

Hollipop and Bo Peep worked feverishly ringing up merchandise for people, Charlotta was bagging stuff as quick as possible... the line grew and grew, with no end in sight. And after about four hours, the end was in sight. The front two walls had stuff on them, a few walls next to them did, a few tables had some items... and that was it. The store was coming to an end. Around 4pm, my time on the floor was done, and I clocked out.

I went into the bathroom, and I unbuttoned my red The Disney Store shirt for the final time. I took it off, laid it on a nearby shelf, and slipped on a t-shirt that I had brought. I gathered my bag, put in my iPod headphones and then slipped out.

THE FINAL DAY
The next day was clean up/party day. I came in around 1pm, helped take down the shelving units that for 21 years had been filled to the rafters with Mickey Mouse, Goofy, Handy Manny, Lizzie Maguire, Aladdin, The Lion King and more. In fact, Lion King stuff was what The Lovely Steph Leann got when she stopped by there in 2003 as part of her engagement day/scavenger hunt.

The shelving was down, I went into the now empty big room that was the stage, with all the empty fixtures shoved off to the side, the empty shelves on the walls collecting dust. The computers were turned off, the black screen of plastic over the main gates and windows. Outside we could even hear some people--kids too--wondering what happened, wondering why The Disney Store was there.

(My buddy Langer just sent me a FB chat message that said 'Hey... my daughter and I went by to see the abyss that was The Happiest Place...')

This past weekend, my friend The Freckled (Re)Becca told me she and her hubby, Bobowen, went by the mall, and some small child was standing in front of The Emptiest Place in the Mall, wailing loudly because he couldn't understand why he couldn't go in. I told The Freckled (Re)Becca that the kid should have gone and wailed in front of the mall manager's office. But... we'll get to that.

Let me finish the weekend... Sunday afternoon, I got ready for the closing party that night, working on things like trivia questions, setting up a prize wall we had for the Cast Members, helping the Magical Manager get ready for what she had planned... around 4:30, the Cast began to show up, one by one. Fauna, Flora, Merriweather. Snow White. Lady Kluck. Bo Peep (featured with me in the pic above). Hollipop. Charlotta. Baloo.  Grumpy.  Dinner. Pictures. Prizes. Videos. Trivia. Games. Memories. And... goodbyes.

THE REALITY OF IT ALL

Let's be real. I'd love to tell you I'll keep up with all of these people, these that I shared 40+ hours per week with for almost two years. I'd love to say that I'll be meeting them for lunch, or Facebooking or calling or whatever... but we all know that tends to go by the wayside as time goes by. People took other jobs, or are back in school, or are retiring, or are just staying at home with kids now... so when I say "goodbyes", I mean it for the most part. Perhaps not completely, but mostly. I'm under no illusions that I'll ever see at least half of these people again. Because that's what happens when the job you love ends. No, not there yet, just be patient.

After the party was over, I met up with Snow White and Hollipop at Sonic, where we enjoyed a few more laughs before saying goodbye again. Afterwards, I got in my car and drove back to The Cabana. The Lovely Steph Leann had already left for a weeklong business trip in Thomaston, GA, so I was alone. In the quiet of my home, I sat on my couch, not turning on the interweb, not turning on the television, not even turning on the iPod... I just sat quietly. I sighed, leaned back and just sat for a few minutes.

And, around 11am or so on Monday morning, I drove up to the Galleria parking lot, parked and walked into the back door of The Happiest Place in the Mall. I said hello to the Magical Manager and on the desk, I laid my Silver Pass (re: admission pass), the Silver Pass held by The Lovely Steph Leann, my Disney ID Card and my store key. And then... I left.

It was over. I was no longer employed by The Walt Disney Company.

Originally, this post here was to be much longer, but I realized it was too long, and would be better served by breaking this final Happiest Place post into 2 parts...  because its already written, its still one post--just in two parts.  Well, okay, its two posts, but the same column.  What I mean is... uh... okay... 

So, check back tomorrow when you'll get the answer to the question "Why did you close?" and "What's next?", or at least the answer I can give you...

Holiday Happy Times

If all were there when we first took the pill, then maybe, then maybe, then maybe, then maybe... Miracles will happen as we speak.  But we're never gonna survive unless...  we get a little crazy.  No we're never gonna survive unless... we are a little... crazy... No no, never survive, unless we get a little... bit... -- Seal

We don't have animal bracelets.  Barbie dolls, The Grinch, Alvin & the Chipmunks, the Happy Feet penguins, anything Madagascar, anything Shrek, the Tale of Despereaux, Snoopy and the like are not Disney properties, and I really don't know where you can find the Pink Panther on a comforter.  Sorry.  Love to help you but I cannot, other than to offer you the usual places like Target and Wal-Mart, and perhaps Toys R Us. 

"Aladdin", "Alice in Wonderland", "The Lion King", "Lady and the Tramp" and "Cinderella" are all in The Vault.  It's quite alright to ask, and perfectly acceptable for you to not know this--thats why I'm here--but I didn't come up with the idea of The Vault, nor do I have any control of release dates, so please don't get angry with me when we don't have copies of those movies.  Furthermore, you had a small window of only 2 years to get "The Little Mermaid" and "Peter Pan" before they went back into The Vault in January of 2009.  "My child didn't want to watch it when it was out, but they want to watch it now!" isn't a good excuse for not getting it when it was available.  Try again in 2017 when they come back out. 

And when I offer you "Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs", or the three movies that ARE going into The Vault in January 2010, "The Jungle Book", "101 Dalmatians" and "Sleeping Beauty", please pick them up either here or somewhere, because perhaps your child won't want to watch them now, but when they do in 2013, you'll come find me and fuss at me for not having them.  Just wanted to get that out of the way.

(ps... "Beauty and the Beast" will be out next October and "Toy Story 1 & 2" will be out in March, so be on the look out--and don't miss 'em!)

Without further ado, a special Christmas edition of Happy Times.

Made a special needs child dry at The Happiest Place in the Mall. Oh, come on, don’t fuss at me yet… hear me out.


Throwing plush animals is kinda like an Olympic Sport at The Happiest Place in the Mall. Kids feel the need to pick up something from the bottom, look at it, and rather than place it, even just drop it where they picked it up, they just toss it in the air towards the top. The bottom row of Plush Mountain looks empty and shallow, with some Mickeys, Patches, Pennys and Squirts just smushed on the bottom, while a cornucopia of The Happiest Characters in the Movies are piled high on top.

So, I walked up on three kids, and one set of parents, tossing animals. Two boys over the side I recognized as kids I’d already asked to stop. My instinctive response is simply, “Please don’t throw the animals… thank you!” You know, its polite, but firm, yet smiley, but slightly forceful. The two boys tossed Nemo and Stitch high into the air, while the little girl—and this part is important—had her back to me. She tossed a Daisy Duck high into the air. So, instinctively, I say, “Please don’t throw the animals… thank you!”

The little boys took off. The little girl, maybe five or six, turned to face me, and when she did, I immediately thought, “Aw, crap.” Sometimes you can tell when a child is dealing with retardation, sometimes you can’t. Sometimes you can tell when a child is autistic, sometimes you can’t. However, if a child has Down Syndrome, more often than not, you can tell. And this little girl had Downs. She turned to me, looked up and me, and looked back at mom and dad. I heard mom whisper to dad, “He didn’t tell those other boys to stop.”

The little girl looked back at me, then leaned over, laid her face into the pile of Mickeys and began to cry. Silently sighing, I sweetly said, “Oh, sweetie, its okay… you didn’t do anything wrong…” Dad leaned over and said, “C’mon baby. Let’s go next door [Build-a-Bear]”. Ah, Holiday Happy Times.

Speaking of the Plush Mountain, I passed by a guest mom with her guest child, both kneeling by the mountain.  As I walked by, I heard the mom saying to the child, "You DO NOT throw these animals.  These people work really hard to keep the Happiest Place in the Mall clean and organized, and its very, very rude to come in here and start throwing things around, especially things that aren't yours.  Now, you put Pluto back where you found him and DO NOT throw him." 

I wanted to stop, turn around, give the mom a hug and offer her a deep discount on anything and everything. 

Because we get shipment every day, I spend many hours going back and forth from the stage to the “back dock”, which is essentially the big sidewalk in front of the South Parking Deck. There’s a large green… something or other. It looks like a big heat radiator, but I that’s not what it is. It’s not electrical, or at least not on the surface (which is good for what I’m about to tell you).

I was onstage, helping some guests and making some magic, and had a moment to go grab some stuff from the shipment.  Both Chip and Dale are coming in later to work on shipment, so I wanted to get as many boxes emptied as I could to help out, so I walk out and see an older gentleman… and he’s facing the Big Green Thing… and I see him a second later turn to his right and walk toward the mall entrance… and I see him, from behind, look as if he’s… well, zipping up… and the spot that he stood seconds before, a puddle… of something… dripping off of the Big Green Thing… and mind you, this is about 3:45 in the afternoon.

I stood, perplexed, as my brain battled my eyes, my brain telling my eyes, “You didn’t just see that,” and my eyes retorting, “Heck yes, I just saw that…” The Magical Manager came out. “I need you to… what’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the bewildered look on her face. I told her what I finally determined to be what I thought I saw, and she had the same repulsed, yet somewhat bewildered look on her face. “Are you serious?” I nodded yes, pointing to the drip drip drip off of the Big Green Thing.

“Well, I live out in the country, and my sons think its okay to do that anywhere,” the Magical Manager laughs. I respond, “Yeah, but your boys are 8. This guys was like, 58.” Then, with a laugh, I said, “Well, I could give him the benefit of the doubt… maybe he just chose to pour out his Mountain Dew right there, with his back turned towards the door.” Ah, holiday Happy Times.

Ring Ring

“It’s a Magical Day at the Disney Store, and my name is d$, can I help you?”
**“Yeah… I uh… I know you probably don’t have any… any of this stuff at all, but I wanted to call and ask anyway…”
“What are ya looking for, ma’am?”

**“Well, I wanted to know if you have any Princess & the Frog stuff.”

“Uh… ma’am, we have lots and lots and lots of Princess & the Frog stuff.”

**“Really?! (voice in overture of surprise) Like, what do you have?!”

“Well, we’ve got dolls… figure sets… shirts, both adult and kids… plush animals, big and small… Mardi Gras instrument sets… kids cooking sets… pajamas… nightgowns… books… sticker books… headbands… collectors jewelry boxes, snow globes and book ends… tote bags…”

**“So, you do have Princess & and the Frog stuff there at your store?”
(pausing, trying to determine which part of “Well, we’ve got dolls… figure sets… shirts, both adult and kids… plush animals, big and small… Mardi Gras instrument sets… kids cooking sets… pajamas… nightgowns… books… sticker books… headbands… collectors jewelry boxes, snow globes and book ends… tote bags…” can be misconstrued as “I’m giving you an ambiguous answer”)

Reason #2,933,003 why I don’t gamble. Snow White, one of my fellow Cast Members, is a big Alabama fan. I, as you may know, root for the Gators of the University of Florida. So when Alabama played Florida about a week or so ago, Snow White and I had a friendly wager. Florida wins, she buys my lunch. Alabama wins, I buy her lunch.

And having to watch Snow chow down on the McDonald’s meal she requested the very next day was humbling. Of course, Florida fans, you can blame Tebow’s performance on me. Had I not made the small wager, the Gators would have won the game by about 38 points. I jinxed it, and for that, I’m sorry.

We stopped taking checks at the beginning of November. I’m perfectly okay with it, because it reduces the pressure that some of our Cast Members have when determining whether to take a suspicious check or not. This can be difficult, especially if someone is buying a lot of movies and/or high priced items, who are we to tell someone that we can’t take their check because they look sketch?  If the name on their ID is similiar to the name on the check, but spelled different, now that might be easier (and it was, when that happened).

Not too long after the "no check" policy took effect, a guest spent about 45 minutes in our store shopping for some items.  Picked out some great toys and apparel, all kinds of magic, and made it to the register.  Whomever was taking her transaction, though I'm not sure if it was Bo Peep or Lady Kluck, immediately spotted the older guest taking her checkbook out.  "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we no longer take checks."

Confused, the lady looks around the counter for a few seconds and responds, "I don't see a sign that says that," as if not having a sign present will preempt any policy we might have.  "No ma'am, we don't have a sign available, but we have stopped taking checks.  I do apologize, ma'am.  Do you have another form of payment, a credit or debit card, or cash?"  The Cast Member was nothing but polite.

"I don't have anything but a check.  I don't have one of them debit cards, and I don't want to use my credit card.  Why don't you take checks anymore?!"

Seeing this might be an issue, I stepped in, and simply explained that our policy had changed, and truly there was nothing we could do about it.  This is true, by the way--our "check" button has even been disabled on the abacuses we call registers at The Happiest Place in the Mall, so even if I wanted to bend the rules in this instance... and believe me, I wasn't about to...

SIDEBAR... I've learned in retail that I'm pretty easygoing and very willing to work with guests, not only at The Happiest Place in the Mall, but also the Most Caffienated Place in Greystone.  Usually, I can offer solutions, I can come up with a compromise, and even if it puts me out a little bit, I'm willing to do what I can do make sure if you don't walk out the door happy, at least you are satisfied with the resolution and knowledge that I did what I could do to help you.  Perhaps I could do more, but the effort has been made--and this is what I expect at other places. 

But--there's always a big but--if the guest begins to become rude, belligerent, nay, just a jerk about it, justified or not, or I can sense "a scene" coming on, suddenly my accommodating nature shuts down, ESPECIALLY if the guest is wrong on the issue at hand, or is not taking the time to understand the explanation.  I no longer want to help you.  I want to do something quickly and get you out of here.  My temptation is to make sure you understand 1) how wrong you are, 2) what a jerkweed you are being and 3) my willingness to assist you in your troubles has left the buidling, replaced with my own selfish, albeit unrighteous, need to prove to you that you are, in fact, wrong.   Hey, I'm not perfect, and I'm kinda of ego-driven when it comes to being right.  Just sayin'.

As the Bo Peep had done, I let her know that there was nothing we could do.  "Ma'am, I'm really sorry about this.  There is an ATM machine at the food court, right around the corner (doing the two-fingered Disney point) and we'll be happy to hold all of this merchandise until you can return, if you'd like."  She then, in not so few words, let me have it.  I won't bore you much with the details, but it included phrases like, "Some of us are older and don't use debit cards" and "You're going to lose so much business this way" and "I've been shopping here for 20 years and you have always taken checks" and "You need to have a sign not only up here, but also out front that says 'We Don't Take Checks' so people won't spend 45 minutes in here shopping, wasting our time!"

I apologized again, she left in a hrumph! and that was that.

Smashcut to a few days ago. 

I'm in the back, working on some things via email, and one of our Happiest Place veterans, Fauna, comes to me.  She asks if we truly have stopped taking checks, and I replied that yes, we had, starting in November.  Fauna said that she hasn't worked that much since then, and didn't know about it, and asked me if it was just our store, or nationwide.  I told Fauna that it was in fact nationwide, and though I didn't know about the stores in Orlando and on WDW property, The Happiest Places in the Malls had stopped taking checks.  Fauna informed me there was a highly unhappy guest outside who had come in to buy some things and we had told don't take checks.

You know where this is going.

I walk out and see our No Check Guest giving Fauna her own earful.  I didn't catch it all, but she said phrases like "Some of us are older and don't use debit cards" and "You're going to lose so much business this way" and "I've been shopping here for 20 years and you have always taken checks" and "You need to have a sign not only up here, but also out front that says 'We Don't Take Checks' so people won't spend 45 minutes in here shopping, wasting our time!"

A few minutes later, the guest gave Hollipop at the register a similiar, though thankfully shorter, diatribe about our no-check policy.

As I bit my lip to stop a slight smile--perhaps I'm terrible that this kind of amused me, maybe I'm just jaded by over-the-top reactions--I thought about the signs all over our store.  Many of them describe the sales that are going on, many of them give a "price point" to the particular fixture its resting on, some of them tell you the "2 For $12" deals and "$3 for $20" and so on.   Now, I'm not saying this is a slam on anyone who does this, because I do this in stores too, but many times people will ask me the price on something that is clearly marked, or ask me if something is on sale, when there's not any signage to allude to it at all.

It occurred to me that if there was a sign posted at the register, anyone who spends 45 minutes shopping in our store will not see this sign until they get to the actual register, which means the 45 minutes had already been wasted.  It also occurred to me that there are very few stores, if any, that have a "We Don't Take Checks" sign at their front door, save for the temporary kiosks or stores that sell Hickory Farms Sausages or 2010 calendars.   And if people are picking up a Buzz Lightyear Plate that's sitting under a sign that says "Meal Time Magic... 3 for $12" and asking me if they can get three of them for $12, they certainly aren't going to see it posted around the store. 

Christmas Happy Times indeed.

Hollipops & Robbers... and a few thoughts

By the way, if you are reading this on Facebook, or get on Facebook on a regular basis... I just started a "Clouds" fan page on FB. I'd love for you to join up. Just search "Clouds In My Coffee" and you'll see it. Really, there is no other reason to join than just to say "Hey, I really like the blog", but it feeds my ego, and really, thats the point.

***Saw "Land of the Lost" the other night, part of "The Dave & Mikey Crappy Movie Series". My thoughts? Eh.

***There's a new movie coming out, one of those that no one I know even is aware of until the previews start showing up. Jeremy Piven is in a flick called "The Goods", high comedy and hijinx on a car dealership. Seriously, though, the first time I saw the preview, I thought it was another gawd-awful remake of a fairly decent 80s flick, this one being "Used Cars", starring Kurt Russell and Jack Warden. "The Goods" might be something I check out with Mikey at the $1 theater in a few weeks.

***Ever watch a show on DVR, and when it goes to commercial, you forget that its DVR, so the commercials just keep playing? I do that all the time. Hence, seeing crappy movie previews.

***So, I'm talking to a guest at The Happiest Place in the Mall, and letting her know that the Ariel dresses we have on our $5.99 rack are the only ones we have left, and that we don't have size 7/8. All we have left is 4 and 10/12. She's unhappy. She's holding a Bolt plush in her hand. She informs me that, with a sigh, she's ready to check out with the other stuff she has. What does she do? In front of me, she places Bolt on the table of t-shirts. Mind you, I'm standing so close to Plush Mountain that if I threw my leg back, I'd kick it. Which means all she had to do was toss the animal about four feet. But, perhaps it looked better on the shirt. Happy times.

***Working with Hollipop at The Happiest Place in the Mall, and poor girl--her home was broken into. The thieves swiped a bunch of stuff, like guns, tvs, electronics, jewelry and more. And you know what they figured out? Hollipop had announced their vacation on her Facebook page... and someone who is one of her "friends" did it. Similar to Hannah Pruitt Award Winners Jessica and James Hawbaker, who had their home (and later their car) broken into, though that was more of a result of the crappy apartment complex, not Facebook. Check out her brilliant thoughts on the subject.

I kinda wish "friends" could be broken into three catagories... "Friends", which are just that. "Acquaintances", which are those people you are friendly toward, but you never see or talk to them, for one reason or another. And then, finally, "Yeah, I Kinda Know You and Somehow Feel It Important To Keep You Around". Perhaps the maximum on the latter catagory should be like, 50 or something. Cause really, do you need more than 50 people you barely know? Yeah, yeah, pot kettle black.

Anyway, back to the story--Hollipop's thieves probably fell into that last catagory. So let that be a warning too you... be careful of your FB friends, and don't put stuff like "Hey, we'll be on vacation, so come rob us!" on your status.

***Late last night, I put in "The Pelican Brief", starring Julia Roberts and Denzel Washington. Its a movie I bought at Wal-Mart for $5, a movie that I rather enjoy. Its re-watchability factor is high, and since I'm about a 1/3 of the way through re-reading the book, I figured I'd watch the adaptation.

It gets to the part around the middle of the movie, when Darby Shaw explains the actual brief, discussing the assassinations of Supreme Court Justices Rosenberg and Jensen, and as that scene ends, the movie just stops. Completely. It goes not to the menu, but to the opening "SONY BLU-RAY" screen that you see when you first turn the machine on.

Bewildered, I open the disc player and look at the disc. This is a movie that I've owned for over a year, but actually pulled the plastic off of about, I dunno, 30 seconds before I put it in. I mean, it was a $5 movie from Wal-Mart, but really, its brand spankin' new... could it be scratched?

I then figure it out. I have to flip the disc over. In the year 2009, I actually haveto flip over the DVD to watch the rest of the movie. I chuckle and remember the joys of laserdiscs. I flipped it over, watch three minutes of it, then went to bed. Much easier.

***I found this site online--and don't ask me to link to it, because I don't remember what it was. Anyway, it allowed you to import your blog and print it in book form. So, just for kicks and giggles, I imported Clouds In My Coffee. It was supposed to take about 30 seconds to import, but instead, it took about 10 minutes--I had opted to import the entire blog. And when it was done, I was previewing a softcover book entitled "Clouds in My Coffee", weighing in at about 1400 pages. The index alone was 24 pages... Mind you, this wasn't "each column starts a new page", this was one column after another. Pictures and all. And it could be mine for the low, low price of only $524.88. I elected to cancel. It did leave me feeling like I accomplished something.