Wells Fargo

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At Wells Fargo, an elderly gentleman regularly came in every morning with his shopping cart filled to the brim. One day, he looked up from counting coins and said to no one in particular, 'I wonder if they ever notice?' Finally, a young delivery driver asked him, ‘Notice what?’ The old man smiled, tapping his coin pile. ‘That I’m still here every day, and they haven’t kicked me out yet.’ Everyone laughed, realizing that maybe it was more about community than money.

2. At Wells Fargo, a young delivery driver started noticing strange things happening whenever he parked near the old oak tree outside. Every time he left his truck, coins would mysteriously appear on the ground around it. One day, while counting the coins, he found a note: ‘Thank you for your service!’ Turned out, an anonymous neighbor was playing a prank, thinking it’d be fun to see if anyone noticed. The delivery driver grinned, realizing life at Wells Fargo wasn’t so dull after all.

3. At Wells Fargo, a neighbor noticed that every Tuesday afternoon, the air outside the bank seemed to hum like a distant swarm of bees. Curious passersby would stop and listen, but no one could ever pinpoint where exactly the sound was coming from. One day, an enthusiastic delivery driver pulled up in front of the bank, his truck’s speakers blaring country music. He thought he heard the buzzing getting louder and leaned out the window to yell, ‘Hey, is that you, old man ghost? Turn it down a notch!’ The whole street burst into laughter as everyone realized the noise was just the driver’s truck radio.

4. At Wells Fargo, a teller named Sarah often overheard customers whispering about ‘the man who counts.’ One day, she asked her colleague, ‘Who’s this mysterious counter?’ and learned no one knew for sure—just that every Wednesday afternoon, someone would appear to meticulously count stacks of coins, never taking any, then disappear as quickly as they arrived. Curious, Sarah started noticing patterns herself. She saw an old gentleman in a fedora arrive exactly at three o’clock every Thursday, carrying a large leather satchel. He’d spend half an hour counting coins with military precision before leaving without a word. Finally, one week, Sarah dared ask him why he counted. With a twinkle in his eye, he replied, 'Just keeping track, dear.' Turned out he was just an enthusiastic coin collector—a regular customer.