State Farm Insurance

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. A delivery driver pulled up to State Farm’s parking lot one morning and noticed something odd on the windshield of the car next to him—a small plastic figurine, no bigger than a thumb. Curious, he picked it up and found it had been left there overnight. The following day, another figure appeared, then another. Soon enough, dozens of tiny toys were scattered around the lot. Soon enough, dozens of tiny toys were scattered around the lot. Alarmed employees thought it was some prank until they saw a note attached to one toy: 'Welcome to State Farm—we hope your insurance claim is as easy as our parking lot!' Eventually, a regular customer brought in a bag full of toys, explaining that his grandkids loved playing this little trick on everyone.

2. A delivery driver pulled up to State Farm’s parking lot one morning and noticed something odd on the windshield of an empty car. It was a small note, taped neatly in the shape of a heart. The note read: ‘To whomever parks here next—please don’t block my view of the sunrise.’ The delivery driver laughed and shook his head, thinking it must be from some regular who parked there often. Later that day, he saw an older gentleman smiling as he walked into the office, presumably the owner of the mysterious love note.

3. One day, a delivery driver pulled up to State Farm's parking lot and heard an unexpected announcement over the intercom: 'Attention, all employees—your lucky number for today is seven. Please look around you.' Everyone did, and sure enough, every seventh car had a free donut waiting. Everyone started laughing, realizing it was just another one of those quirky State Farm pranks. The delivery driver grinned and said, ‘Guess I’m lucky number seven too!’ From then on, whenever anyone mentioned State Farm, people would smile and remember the day when donuts rained down from the sky—or rather, from the intercom.

4. One foggy morning, a delivery driver pulled up to State Farm’s parking lot and found an old, dusty ukulele leaning against a mailbox. No note, no owner in sight—just a curious instrument waiting for its new adventure. As days passed, more ukuleles appeared around town—on street corners, parked cars, even on mailboxes. Soon enough, neighbors started gathering every evening for impromptu concerts. A regular would bring cookies, another would lend his voice like a foghorn, and before you knew it, State Farm became famous for its weekly ‘ukulele jam sessions.’