ageist tender_square the young woman behind the community center reception desk had her eyes downcast toward her cell phone, the scroll reeling in her attention. she looked up at me as i approached and surreptitiously placed the device down on the desk. i casually leaned against the countertop. “hi. can you tell me what room eleni is in for creative writing?” “oh, sure. are you looking for your daughter?” it was an innocent enough question. the problem is, in my head, i relate to being a twenty-something; appearance-wise my face shows the reversal of youth. this fresh-faced woman with freckles and flawless skin was not my mirror: makeup cakes in my crow’s feet. my eyes have the greyish tint of someone sleep deprived. lipstick only accentuates the smoker’s lines from a long-kicked habit. she was mistaking me for a parent. she was mistaking me for an adult. “uh, no.” i clarified. “i’m a new instructor. i’m supposed to be job shadowing eleni tonight, she teaches the class.” 230816 what's it to you? who go blather from