Geeves

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Geeves Dry Cleaning and noticed an odd humming sound coming from inside. Curious but cautious, he peered through the window and saw nothing unusual—until he caught a whiff of something sweet and strange wafting out into the night air. Suddenly, a familiar voice called from within: ‘Delivery guy? Come on in, I’ve got your order!’ It was just Mr. Jenkins, the friendly old owner who always had a joke or two for everyone. The delivery driver walked in, only to discover that Mr. Jenkins had been mixing his dry cleaning chemicals with vanilla extract—and now everything smelled like dessert.

2. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Geeves Dry Cleaning and noticed an odd message on the sign: ‘Your shirts are cleanest when you’re not watching.’ The delivery driver shrugged it off as just another strange thing about this town. Later that week, he dropped off some shirts at Geeves again—only to find them spotless and perfectly pressed with no note or explanation. From then on, whenever anyone asked him about his mysterious experience, he’d wink and say, 'They must’ve cleaned my shirts while I wasn’t looking.'

3. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Geeves Dry Cleaning and noticed an old suitcase abandoned on the loading dock. Curious, he opened it—only to discover a vintage camera from the 1950s. As he inspected it, the camera suddenly clicked—a photo of his own reflection appearing in the darkroom behind him! Turning around, he found himself surrounded by neatly pressed suits of every color imaginable, each one smiling back at him with a twinkle in its button eyes. After that night, Geeves became known not just for cleaning clothes but also for occasionally taking impromptu snapshots of their customers’ deliveries.

4. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Geeves Dry Cleaning and noticed an eerie humming coming from inside. The sound grew louder as he approached the door, almost like something mechanical was singing in perfect pitch. Curious, he cracked open the door—a soft glow spilled out, revealing rows of shirts dancing in sync with the hum. Turns out, it was just the owner’s vintage record player, playing old jazz tunes while he sorted laundry. A regular stopped by later that week, joking, ‘Guess I’ll never be late picking up my suits again!’