Bank of America

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. Late one night, as a delivery driver approached Bank of America with their truck, they noticed an eerie humming sound coming from inside the building. Curious but cautious, they parked nearby and strained to listen—was it really there, or just their imagination? Suddenly, a friendly voice called out from within: 'Delivery here!' Startled, the driver saw a small figure waving from behind the glass door—a janitor, mopping away. The humming was just the air-conditioning. Relieved, the driver smiled and said, 'Guess I’m not as tired as I thought.'

2. Late one night, as a delivery driver approached Bank of America with their truck, they heard an eerie humming coming from inside the building. Curious but cautious, the driver peered through the window and saw rows upon rows of dollar bills dancing in perfect synchronization. Suddenly, one bill broke ranks and started waving frantically. Thinking it was asking for help, the driver reached in to grab it—only to realize it was just a stray windsock from the nearby park! The restless notes turned out to be nothing more than autumn leaves blowing through the open door.

3. Late one night, as a delivery driver approached Bank of America with their truck, a regular customer asked curiously: ‘I wonder if they count money differently after hours?’ Suddenly, the door opened and an old security guard yawned: 'No, sir, we just stack it in big bags like everyone else.' The delivery driver laughed nervously, thinking he’d been had, while the regular customer shook his head and whispered to himself, ‘Next time I’ll ask about the secret vault.’

4. Late one night, as a delivery driver approached Bank of America with their truck, an old lady called out from her window: ‘Hey, sonny! Do you know what time it is?’ The driver checked his watch and replied, ‘It’s after hours, ma’am.’ She nodded wisely: ‘Exactly my point—banking hours don’t start until dawn around here!’ The delivery driver smiled politely and said, 'Ma’am, I’ll be back first thing in the morning.' Just then, another voice chimed in from across the street—a neighbor calling out, 'Loretta, honey, that’s not Bank of America, it’s just the post office!' The old lady laughed heartily and waved goodbye.