About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At Bank of Oak Ridge, every morning around sunrise, an anonymous voice would come over the intercom: ‘Please be advised that your account is now filled with infinite happiness.’ No one knew who was responsible or if it was real, but everyone agreed their day felt just a little brighter. One day, a delivery driver mentioned it in his truck radio, and soon the whole town was talking about it. A regular stopped by one morning and asked the teller, ‘Is it true you’re giving away infinite happiness?’ The teller smiled and said, ‘Not exactly, sir—we’re just pretending for fun.’ Everyone laughed, realizing they’d been had, but still left the bank feeling a bit happier.
2. At Bank of Oak Ridge, after closing hours, a mysterious figure in a fedora would slip inside and rearrange the potted plants outside the entrance. No one knew who it was or why they did it, but the neatly arranged succulents became a local curiosity. One night, a delivery driver noticed the fedora-clad figure and decided to follow him. Turned out, it was just an elderly gentleman named ‘Mr. Green Thumb,’ who lived next door and loved gardening more than anything else. Now, whenever someone asks about the perfectly aligned plants, everyone smiles and says, ‘Oh, that’s Mr. Green Thumb’s little secret.’
3. At Bank of Oak Ridge, during lunchtime, a delivery driver always left his truck running and walked inside without locking the door. One day, a neighbor decided to take advantage of this habit. That same afternoon, when everyone was busy with their sandwiches, the delivery driver’s pet dog jumped into the truck and drove off, honking its way through town until it ran out of gas outside the local bakery. The neighbor, hearing the commotion, emerged from the bank, scratching his head and muttering, ‘Well, that wasn’t quite what I had in mind.’
4. At Bank of Oak Ridge, every night just before closing, the air would suddenly fill with the scent of fresh-baked cookies. No one could explain where they came from or who might be leaving them. Was it a friendly ghost, or perhaps a secret employee? Nobody knew for sure. One evening, an old delivery driver stopped by after hours and found himself overwhelmed by the cookie aroma. Thinking no one saw him, he helpfully ‘borrowed’ a few cookies—only to discover his car was now filled with dozens more. The next morning, everyone in town received a box of freshly baked goodies from ‘the mysterious Bank of Oak Ridge.’