You’re driving, and hit another fork in the road. “What do I do?” you ask yourself. That’s when you start to hear them. One voice saying take the safe route. The other telling you to try something different. With the new Spicy Sweet Double Stacked Taco, you get the best of both roads without the stress of choosing between the Sweet Chili or Spicy Habanero sauces you crave. A combination so good, you’ll forget you were day dreaming as you miss your exit and find, there it is, another fork in the road.
Every floor had completely different personalities, but somehow everybody’s unique dynamic created a sort of perfect, 7-layer family. You know, it’s like...
Refried Beans lives on the first floor and always tells you jokes in a different language, then laughs hysterically. You can’t understand what he’s saying but always laugh anyway because he has that weird breathy laugh style and it sounds hilarious. Because Beans is on the ground floor, you always have this weird voyeuristic view into his life, which mostly consists of watching cop show reruns and cleaning dishes.
Latin Rice is an elderly woman that lives on the second floor and has a lovely patio garden. It mostly consists of colorful flowers, but last spring, Rice baked you a pie with fresh rhubarb from her garden. You don’t even know what rhubarb is, let alone how you could grow it in a little apartment garden, but pie is pie. She always gives you birthday cards, but you don’t know how she found out your birthday.
Guacamole lives on the third floor and is a dancer, you think. She’s so beautiful that you develop an insurmountable stutter every time you are within her 10-foot radius. So, you’ve never actually introduced yourself.
Shredded Lettuce is the landlord and lives on the fourth floor. She seems super handy, based on that one time when she replaced your door, but you’re too afraid to ask her to fix your stove because she always seems a little irritated with you. Maybe she knows you have an iguana even though there’s a strict no pets policy.
Three-Cheese Blend is a musician on the fifth floor and, oh my gosh, he’s so bad at the bassoon. So bad that you think he might actually be playing a clarinet instead. Or heck, maybe even a trumpet. An apartment with thin walls is no place for a struggling woodwind/horn/instrument/who knows player.
Diced Tomatoes lives on the sixth floor and is probably a dude named Jeff. He’s a pretty cool guy from Maine, and you guys play video games sometimes. He travels a lot for business so he’s never there.
The seventh floor is owned by an eccentric and evasive guy, Reduced Fat Sour Cream. He’s so brimming with benjamins that some of the other tenants think he might be a distant Vanderbilt or something.
You know how in pretty much every video game, you can upgrade your character with a power-up?
Well, this is a real-life version of that. A double portion of slow-simmered black beans, guacamole, pico de gallo, crisp romaine lettuce, and Latin rice, packed into an seriously powerful bowl. You get so much protein that you’re basically getting a real-life character upgrade for lunch, and you don’t even have to head-butt a box of bricks or fight your boss to get it.
Please use in portrait mode