Restoring Faith in Humanity at the MAX Station

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Just before 6pm, I was heading to the Hollywood MAX station to go back to my home in Vancouver with bike in tow. I assumed, like every MAX station I've been to, there'd be a ticket machine on the platform. Getting past the busy fare inspectors, in hopes to find one, all hope was lost. Being the honest person I am, instead of staying at the end of the platform, I circled back to continue my search up the stairs. "Can I see your ID?", the fare inspector demanded
"I'm going to go buy a ticket, can you tell me - "
"I need to see your ID"
After meeting the coldest person in the world who slapped me with a $175 fine, and left me to my own devices to find the ticket machine after asking thrice, I headed back upstairs to finish completing my intentions. Just after selecting a ticket from the options given, you, looking no older than 23 with gauged ears, snuck up behind me to hand me a ticket you just bought and never used yourself. I thanked you once and not enough. I really hope this gets to you somehow, someway.

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