Tisinger Vance, PC

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside Tisinger Vance’s law office with a mysterious package. As he approached the door, an eerie light flickered on from within. Curious, he peered through the window and saw only a shadowy figure hunched over a computer screen. Suddenly, the figure turned around—revealing nothing but a printout of an old case file. The delivery driver shrugged and left, thinking maybe lawyers work strange hours after all. Back home, his neighbor asked what kept him out so late. ‘Just another day in the life of a delivery guy,’ he grinned, shaking his head.

2. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside Tisinger Vance's law office with an unusual package. As he approached the door, he heard a faint humming coming from inside—like someone softly singing 'I’ll Be Seeing You' while typing on an old typewriter. Curious, he peered through the window and saw only an empty desk. The humming grew louder, then faded away. Next morning, when everyone arrived for work, they found a note on the receptionist’s desk: ‘Sorry for the inconvenience! Just needed some peace to draft that brief.’

3. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside Tisinger Vance’s law office with an urgent package. As he approached the door, he noticed an old man sitting on the steps, muttering something about ‘lost cases’ and ‘unfair justice.’ As the delivery driver got closer, the old man looked up and asked plaintively, 'Did you bring my lucky briefcase?' The driver shook his head, confused. With a sigh, the old man stood up and said, 'Well, better luck next time!' Then he walked away into the night, whistling a jaunty tune.

4. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside Tisinger Vance’s law office with a package for Mr. Vance himself. As he approached the door, he heard an odd sound coming from inside—a soft humming that seemed almost familiar. Curious, he peered through the window and saw Mr. Vance softly singing along to some old tune while organizing papers on his desk. The delivery driver smiled, thinking maybe it was just another late-night workaholic having fun with music. But when he knocked on the door, Mr. Vance looked up, grinned sheepishly, and said, ‘Oh, hello there—just practicing my closing arguments!’