In the town where I live, there is no garbage collection.
You have to take your trash to the dump yourself. (It's offically called the transfer station, but everyone calls it what it is: the dump.)
But as dumps go, it's a pretty cool dump.
There's one section referred to as the Duxbury Mall, where people leave "good" stuff that you can take: rusty bicycles, moldy wicker rocking chairs, 30-year-old blenders, dusty fake Christmas trees. You name it, you can find it. (My son once got a bizarre wagon/scooter combo that the kids in the neighborhood referred to as "the Demented-mobile.")
In addition to the Duxbury Mall, there's a trailer called the Duxbury Book Exchange!
Every time I go there, I worry that I'm going to find one of my books.