First American Bank

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a little boy walked into First American Bank and asked the teller for an envelope. When she asked why, he said he needed it for his allowance. The teller smiled but noticed something odd—every time she looked up from her desk, the boy’s hair seemed slightly greyer. Finally, when the teller couldn’t resist any longer, she asked him if he was saving for college or retirement. With a twinkle in his eye, the boy replied, ‘No, I just want to look older so my mom will give me more allowance!’ Everyone burst out laughing, including the teller who realized that sometimes growing old has its perks after all.

2. One day, an elderly gentleman entered First American Bank and approached the counter with a mysterious package under his arm. The teller asked him what it was, but he just smiled enigmatically and replied, ‘Just some old papers from my attic.’ After a few minutes of polite banter, another customer—a delivery driver—asked if everything was okay. Smiling wider than ever, the old man whispered, 'I’m just waiting for the bank to recognize these ancient checks!' Turning back to the teller, he added, 'They’re worth millions!' The whole room burst into laughter as the teller politely explained that they were probably just very old IOUs.

3. One afternoon, a small dog ran into the First American Bank lobby, causing everyone to freeze in surprise. The receptionist calmly picked up the panting pooch and looked around for its owner. Just then, an elderly gentleman approached the counter and asked, ‘Is this your little friend?’ He was holding a leash with a tag that read, ‘Max, world’s best banker.’ Everyone laughed, including Max who wagged his tail proudly. The receptionist smiled and said, ‘Welcome back, Mr. Smith—looks like Max has found another branch to visit today!’

4. One night, a delivery driver pulled up to the First American Bank and asked the guard if he could use the bathroom. ‘No problem,’ said the guard, ‘but you’ll have to wait until the vault closes.’ Finally, the guard nodded, and the delivery driver walked into the bathroom just as the heavy vault door clanked shut behind him. Moments later, the guard heard faint singing coming from inside—’America the Beautiful.’ When the song ended with a flourish, the guard smiled and opened the door, only to find our hero standing there, completely dry and humming contentedly. ‘Thanks for letting me sing my little number!’ he chirped before hopping back onto his bike.