Forget Our Elite Town Center: A Cornucopia of Premium Home Furnishings Awaits In South Reston

Ever since our favorite fake downtown gritty urban core has decided to cast off its aspirations for urban authenticity in favor of eliteness (and paid parking to keep out the riffraff), many fellow Restonians have vowed to never darken the 3/5th scale doors of RTC again. But where to find a midscale chain dining experience or high quality home furnishings?

We can't help with the former, but our favorite correspondent, The Peasant From Less Sought After South Reston, has made an important discovery about the latter. Here's what he found in South Reston:

A classic saying that legend attributes to the U.S. Navy -- "two percent never get the message" -- certainly is holding true in our little slice of paradise.

Braving both the beat-up Ford F-250s of Luke Duke's distant kin as well as crazed vegan Prius drivers, The Peasant recently executed a covert recon mission at the Reston South recycling center, known more officially as the Fairfax County Department of Public Works and Environmental Services West Ox/I-66 Transfer Station Recycling and Disposal Center's Reston South Park & Ride Recycling Drop-Off Facility (or, FCDPWESWO/I66TSR&DCRSP&RRD-OF, for short).

With the first Earth Day 46 years in the past, one might be excused for thinking that by now everyone grasps the ABCs of what to recycle: tin and aluminum cans, plastic and glass bottles, paper and cardboard. Simple, no? But then again, there's that aforementioned two percent who have transformed a well-intentioned recycling center into Ye Olde Rubbish Dumpe. Let's have a lookee-see photo tour, shall we?

Here we are at the Reston South recycling center; containers for paper recycling on the left, charity drop-off bins on the right. But wait -- what are all those mysterious artifacts in between? A closer look is certainly in order.

A cornucopia of consumer castoffs, almost enough to fully furnish a millennial's first crash pad after moving out of the old folks' basement. And you even get your pick of mattress sizes, queen or twin -- is this better than going to Sleepy's or what!

Oh, wait. Someone obviously wasn't paying attention back in third grade reading class. Or spelling class also, to judge by the plural of "mattress"

And to help with the move-out, here's a slightly used piece of what must be the finest Louis Vuitton luggage. Just the thing to impress your new next door neighbors when moving into Ashburn.

No truth to the rumor -- as far as we know -- that Jimmy Hoffa was found in that wooden crate.

Hey, was Tommy Silva and the rest of the gang from This Old House here in Reston and we missed it? Everything the do-it-yourselfer needs for a fun outdoor home improvement project. Maybe these items can even be re-purposed for renovating the Lake House to reduce the $428,000 capital cost overrun by, say, $27? Let's just hope there's no shade of verboten Trump orange, Sanders pink, or Hillary chameleon in those paint cans.

We're not quite sure what to make of this -- maybe some edgy IPAR art installation? Do those three paint cans precariously perched above Beyonce like a contemporary Sword of Damocles symbolize the angst of her once having been Destiny's Child?

After our tour of the flotsam and jetsam of Northern Virginia consumer culture, we can only conclude that while the recycling center started out as a good idea, matters seem to be heading south thanks to a few lazy self-centered slobs. Proof indeed that it's not just the road to hell that's paved with good intentions -- it's also the road to the FCDPWESWO/I66TSR&DCRSP&RRD-OF.