A simple photo-aided workflow of how I « most effectively » "could" establish a search inquiry in to the trash cans around a formative establishment of a recycler's good fortune: a well-traveled and well-patronized gas station establishment, such as the Shell station at Olympic at Grand, in downtown Los Angeles.
The gas station is placed at an impeccable location - right up the street from the Staples Center, where sporting and entertainment events are common. I'd commonly discover rich caches of discarded recyclables in the trash, for example. Sometimes food. On a couple of occasions, a patron of the gas station would offer me charity. A man, who called himself Baba, had chatted me up, one time. He told me that I seemed like a good person, as I dug through the trash at the gas station. He offered me some change. The Indian Subcontinent people can be endearing, at times, as this man was, in his persona about me. He related to me in a spiritually enlightened sense.
Here, I had left the gas station, and I set out to do a full survey of the « recyclables » area, as I was intent on seeking out, and discovering - all the recyclables that I might find, and collect, on my outing, for the night. Perhaps I had an endeavor to pursue; a bill to pay, an aspiration for the coming morning, perhaps.
The next block over is Olive, I believe. This slight locale features an up-and-coming corporate identity and persona establishment, with the Oakwood corporate housing complex seated next to a Starbucks. The height of developing adults' expression of self-esteem in the confidence of their burgeoning professionalism careers. Here, in this trash can, I'd typically discover nearly-to-wholly-eaten meal packaging, drinks from Starbucks, and hard Seltzer's, which are common recyclables to encounter in the trash, for the fact that drinking alcohol in public is illegal. Do the patrons of the trash can |slight| locality conscientiously disburse of their cans, after drinking them inside? [the car? ... perhaps?].
Maybe. I, as a recyclables collector, would hope so. On one hand, for my own benefit, but also to engender the notion that such recycling jaunts are a venture establishment of the overseers of the Grand-Central-|ing| of the schedule rotation of who the up-and-coming aspirational homeless ones are, of the recyclables-collecting sort. It's a semaphore development locality, in this neighborhood; somewhat bordering South Park, and just up the street, on this one, some eclectic and clichey small cottage establishments that made it out of the garage, or apartment complex - in to the relatively walking-distance-capable campus identity that a dedicated walker could suit, for the sake of establishing a local guides locality and persona marketing identity suitable for accommodating some leisure time, of the tech and lifestyle establishment afforded by the Google Maps and Contribute arms of the Google umbrella of companies and entities afforded by Google. Doing local guide "stuff" around town will definitely work the walking muscle, for the square mileage that DTLA is; although I say that it's all walking distance. I figure that I can check this trash can out, on some nights, and in the interim, establish some publishing merit towards a « perhaps » readership and participatory contingency of "people who talk to the Cloud Platform identities - the overseers and administrators of the City Quadrants: in a civic center where 1 or 2 streets "over" could be a completely different vibe, it's important to timely acknowledge and homestead the locale that one lives in, in a place like DTLA. I feel that the USC-large presence that's been establishing itself, through the Keck Medical Center, and the USC-labeled former AT&T highrise, is a demographic that's largely included in the Cloud Platform civic and governmental development prospectuses of the overseeing city controllers, whom a fond former acquaintance had related to me as a significantly impressive technological operation, behind the office doors, somewhere.
Then, across the street, there's another trash can. This place, next to it, is a kitschy dive bar, or something. It's kind of a dog-poop trash can, but I checked it, on this night, and I was duly rewarded, for my efforts, even in spite of the fact that it's typically a dump and poop trash can.
There's four trash cans at this intersection. One on each corner. The one at the corner outside this [seeming] city administrative building is largely likely the same story as the last trash can, as far as poop goes. I checked it, and I believe that I found some more riches of recyclables here.
This is the last trash can, seen for the conquering of the intersection, by the recycling bum, [also a mobility-lifestyle techie-trekker]. This trash can had some wealth of some discarded stuff in it, for sure.
The point is, is that, in Grand-Central-|ing| the semaphore of the slight locale, here; somewhat subdued, within the context of the recycling bum persona; yet rich, behind the scenes, of the stories of the people who patronize the trash cans of the intersection here - which is a fortunate one to « hotspot » for recycling's sake, in that it's conceivably trying and difficult to search out every trash can of all of DTLA for recyclables, yet it's a reasonably good jump off point of an outset and basis of a recycling bum identity, which reaps the rewards as such, miniscule in fiduciary scale ad it might be - it endows the partaker in a more rugged and well-heeled, more sustainable and pervasive identity of homesteading one's way in to appearing to be a valid local, which is an enviable pursuit to succeed in, in the high-threshold rental basis of the apartment lofts and condos of South Park, DTLA, as well as the furnished corporate housing establishment that is Oakwood (I believe that they are the primary corporate housing establishment, nationwide, last I heard). They do furnished and short-term leasing, on a more choicey budget scale than a well-situated budget, of establishing locale identity in a persona of young-life professionalism, as I'd formerly discovered, and lived out, as a renter of the Marina Del Rey Oakwood apartment complex branch of the company's several offerings throughout the greater Los Angeles area.
Maid service, too.
The point is that, in proper methodology, in data-scrumming; here, recyclables from the trash cans, context, basis, intent, and Grand Central semaphore development contingencies, such as seen in more refined establishments, such as cloud computing, are portrayed, in the scope of the trash cans, for the recyclables - for what it's worth, the seeker who goes the distance: here, it's only four corners of an intersection - gets the rewards, at least sometimes.
In executive and administrative functioning, it's important to viably monetize every moment and movement about and around completing a task. The developers of civic establishment and zoning do the ground work, and corporate enterprise provides the visionary paths through which people live out the meaningful pursuit and outlook of their lives, meanwhile also having the potential to affect others within the locale.
Neglecting suitable and viable monetizable facets of an archetypal city quadrant, or data set, of a subject-contingency, is sure to suit all of the unlikable facets of neglect, in the first place.
The recyclables aren't going to collect themselves, after all.
Many various-use bags can be tied alongside the ridges of the handles and top of the cart, for sorting the daily necessities of bum life. 
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