Other cities have landmarks. We have a wheelie bin in royal purple with a personality disorder.
It started as recycling and turned into folklore. People photograph them. People paint crowns on them. People write songs that are definitely not about bins and then wink. If you have never seen a seagull holding court on a purple lid, you have not done a Tuesday on a terraced street.
The bin is boss because it is everywhere and it is ours. Same colour as a Saturday night, same attitude as a bouncer, same job as your ma: taking the rubbish out and still looking the part.
Local legend status confirmed. If you see one tipped over in the wind, set it right. That is civic duty, that.