Chase

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a delivery driver grumbled under his breath as he approached Chase Bank: ‘Why does it always take so long here?’ Little did he know that from then on, every time someone mentioned those words, the line would mysteriously grow longer. Finally, one day, after uttering the famous words yet again, our delivery driver noticed something odd—everyone in line was holding their breath! Turns out, the ghost of an old teller, annoyed by the repeated complaints, had decided to make life difficult for anyone who dared mention Chase Bank’s notoriously slow service. Since then, whenever someone whispered those words, everyone around them seemed to freeze mid-step, waiting for eternity… until they remembered to breathe and the line magically disappeared.

2. Early one autumn morning, a delivery driver pulled up to Chase Bank, muttering about the chilly breeze that whipped through his jacket. As he unlocked the door, he noticed something odd: every ATM screen displayed the same message—‘Welcome Home, Mr. Smith.’ Inside, everyone was frozen in place—they thought it was just another greeting until Mr. Smith himself walked out of the elevator, wearing a confused smile and asking if anyone had seen his card. Turns out, the whole thing was a mix-up from the new security software, and poor Mr. Smith hadn’t even visited the bank for years.

3. Late one night, a security guard patrolling Chase Bank heard an eerie humming coming from inside the vault. Curious but cautious, he peered through the glass and saw nothing but shadows dancing in the dim light. Suddenly, a shadowy figure emerged from the depths of the vault, waving cheerfully. ‘Good evening!’ it said. The guard relaxed—just a janitor cleaning up after hours. But then he noticed something odd: the janitor was wearing a suit identical to his own. Turns out, it was just a regular who worked two jobs.

4. Late one night, a security guard patrolling Chase Bank noticed a strange scent of freshly baked cookies wafting from inside. Curious, he followed the smell down a dimly lit corridor and found an open door leading to the bank’s supply room. Inside, standing on a chair with a box of doughnuts balanced precariously in his arms was a delivery driver. ‘Oh,’ said the man, turning around sheepishly. ‘I thought you’d like some fresh pastries.’ The guard smiled and shook his head, knowing that sometimes banks really do bake their own luck.