Medium Ash Blonde
Walgreens, Twenty-first and Sarah, Pittsburgh. Saturday, May sixteenth, seven fifty-two AM.
0:00 / 3:45
Medium Ash Blonde
A fabricated Walgreens return slip is stamped 7:52 on the morning of a Saturday in May: one box of medium ash blonde hair color handed back over the counter, still sealed; bobby pins, hairspray, a bottle of water, one blank card; five dollars and thirty-six cents in cash. Nine dollars come off the register, and the wedding is at two.
The ballad that grows out of it keeps its voice down all the way to the courthouse. "Medium ash blonde, and she took it back," she sings, close and unhurried over a spare felt piano, an upright bass and brushed snare, and a room downtown with eleven rows of chairs. Listen late, alone, on the drive home, or on the morning before something you have decided to go through with anyway. Just under four minutes.
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