About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At Cinnabon, where the aroma of fresh baked goods never fails to draw customers in, one day a regular asked aloud: ‘Do you think those buns could talk if they wanted to?’ Suddenly, a delivery driver chimed in, "They do talk—every morning at 8:30!" Everyone laughed, and the regular nodded knowingly. From then on, whenever someone entered Cinnabon, they’d whisper, 'Good morning, talking buns!'
2. At Cinnabon, where the aroma of fresh baked goods never fails to draw customers, a delivery driver once accidentally left behind a mysterious package. Curious locals gathered around, wondering what secrets it held—until they discovered it contained nothing more than an oversized box of free samples. As word spread, a regular customer decided to investigate further. He pretended to be a delivery guy and returned ‘accidentally’ with another giant sample box. Turns out, everyone in town got their daily dose of Cinnabon for weeks until someone finally noticed the pattern—and no one ever suspected poor old Mr. Johnson next door.
3. At Cinnabon, where the aroma of fresh baked goods never fails to draw customers, an elderly gentleman named Mr. Jenkins would often stop for a treat after his morning walk. One day, as he approached the counter, he exclaimed, 'I haven’t had one of these since my granddaughter made them!' As it turned out, no one knew who Mrs. Jenkins was, but everyone agreed that her legendary cinnamon buns must be somewhere in the city. So every week, Mr. Jenkins visited Cinnabon with renewed hope, and the staff joked among themselves about his mysterious relative. The only thing certain was that their store always sold out of cinnamon rolls by noon.
4. At Cinnabon, where the aroma of fresh baked goods never fails to draw customers, an elderly gentleman named Mr. Smith often stopped for his favorite treat. One day, as he approached the counter, he exclaimed, ‘I bet you can’t guess how many times I’ve been here!’ The cashier smiled and replied, 'Let me see now… once, twice, three times a week?' Mr. Smith laughed heartily and shook his head, 'Not even close! This is my hundredth visit!' The crowd burst into laughter, and someone shouted, 'Mr. Smith, you should write a book!' To which he simply said, 'Maybe next time—after another slice.'