About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At dusk, when Fulton Bank usually sees its last customers of the day leaving, an old man in a tweed suit would suddenly appear. He’d walk straight up to the teller window and ask for the same amount of money every time—exactly $3.14. The teller would always smile and hand over the requested sum without question. One evening, after giving him the cash, she asked curiously, ‘Sir, why do you always take exactly $3.14?’ The old man looked her squarely in the eye and replied with a twinkle, ‘Young lady, that’s how much it costs these days to keep my little pie business going!’
2. At dusk, when Fulton Bank usually sees its last customers of the day leaving, an elderly gentleman approached the counter with a peculiar request. "Excuse me, tell me,” he asked the teller, “if you ever had any deliveries made here after closing hours?" The teller smiled and shook her head. ‘No sir,’ she replied politely, ‘we close our doors on time.’ The old man nodded thoughtfully and said, ‘I see… Well, goodnight then!’ As he turned to leave, someone from behind called out, ‘Hey, Mr. Jones! Your package’s here!’ Turning back, he grinned sheepishly and muttered, ‘Oh, that’s right—must be my neighbor again.’
3. At dusk, when Fulton Bank usually sees its last customers of the day leaving, an old man in a tweed suit would appear with a large cardboard box under his arm. He’d walk up to the teller counter and whisper something into the microphone, then disappear as quickly as he came. One evening, after everyone had gone home, a delivery driver noticed the old man’s box was filled not with cash but with warm cookies. Turned out, it was just Mr. Jenkins, who liked to surprise the staff with his homemade treats every now and then. The bank never closed on good terms before.
4. At dusk, when Fulton Bank usually sees its last customers of the day leaving, an old man in a tweed suit would appear, carrying a large brown envelope. He’d approach the teller with a smile and ask for a special transaction, always paying exactly at midnight. One night, a delivery driver asked the teller if she recognized the old gentleman. Turns out he was just their neighbour’s long-lost uncle, who liked to visit after dinner. The ‘special transaction’? He was simply borrowing some pens from the bank until his own were found.