Fifth Third Bank

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. It was just another quiet morning at Fifth Third Bank when a delivery driver arrived with an unusual package. As he approached the front desk, everyone noticed something peculiar: the box seemed to be humming softly. As the bank employees leaned in closer, they realized the humming sound was coming from inside the box—a tiny radio tuned to some oldies station. The delivery driver shrugged and said, 'I guess it’s their way of saying hello!' Everyone laughed, and soon enough, the hum became part of the daily routine, reminding everyone that even banks can have quirky neighbors.

2. A delivery driver pulled up to Fifth Third Bank one afternoon, only to notice something peculiar in the back of his truck—a small, mysterious box wrapped in brown paper and sealed with twine. He shrugged it off as someone else’s forgotten package. Later that evening, while unloading packages, he opened the box curiously—only to discover a note reading: ‘Happy Holidays from your friendly neighborhood bank!’ Inside were several bottles of free champagne and a handwritten card apologizing for any inconvenience caused. The delivery driver laughed, shook his head, and shared the story with his neighbors over a celebratory toast.

3. A regular was counting his coins in front of the bank one evening, oblivious to the world around him. Suddenly, an old coin jar started playing soft classical music on its own. The crowd gathering outside drew a curious delivery driver who asked what the noise was. The coin jar played on, serenading everyone until it suddenly stopped, leaving only silence and a puzzled look from the regular. As he approached the counter, the teller smiled and said, ‘Welcome back, sir—your monthly fee is ready.’

4. At Fifth Third Bank, every weekday at precisely 3 PM, a small dog would appear from nowhere and run straight for the teller counter. No one knew whose it was or why it came there, but everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. One day, an elderly gentleman approached the counter, asking anxiously, ‘Has anyone seen my little terrier? He always comes here around three!’ The tellers laughed and pointed towards the door, where the tiny dog was now happily playing with a dollar bill. Turns out, he belonged to none other than the bank’s janitor—a regular who brought him in daily for some afternoon exercise.