❝  NICE SHOW— that last one, one of yours?  ❞  slinging her damp rag over her shoulder, she takes in the tiny woman and the guitar that nearly dwarfs her.  being a bartender, monica comes across all walks of life—  and she has this thing she likes to do with them ; she likes to picture them as placeholders in her old life back home, likes to silently debate about whether they’d survive the streets or not.  she’s not so sure about this girl, but to be fair, she’s more preoccupied with finding out whether she talks as pretty as she sings.  for as long as she’s been bartending here, they’ve never spoken, but she’s noticed her— listened to most of her sets, even.  monica decidedly prefers her to the hipsters who come through, what with their banjos that tempt some violent urges deep within her.  ❝  —i never heard it before.  ❞  /  @honeybeed.