I've been getting breakfast for the last two years, maybe three, and only just recently realized that what I thought of as an oddly shaped water caraffe was in fact modeled after the standard bottle in which milk was packaged in the middle of the previous century.
I grew up in Richland Township, a suburb of Johnstown, in Western Pennsylvania, in the 1950s. We had a small insulated metal box on the front porch. It was just large enough to hold four, probably six, such milk bottles. Every few days the local milkman, from Galliker's or Weller's (I didn't actually remember those names, but I've done a bit of Googling), would stop his truck in the front of the house. He had a small rectangular basket with a handle in which he'd placed some bottles of fresh milk, perhaps a pint of cream, even orange juice, depending on the order. He'd remove the empties from the milk box, place them on the porch, and then fill the box with the fresh milk.
[Note: I don't actually remember seeing that, much less the specific order of operations, to borrow a phrase from Adam Savage. But something pretty much like that must have happened. How do I know? I'm sure of the box, the truck, and the milkman. Given that, the logic of the physical world dictates something like the sequence I described. Sure, it is theoretically possible that the milkman also did handsprings on the way from the truck to the porch. But, as a practical matter, that's not very likely. It is also theoretically possible that the milk man was a milk woman. But in the 1950s, not very likely.]
Those milk bottles were pretty much gone by the 1970s, at least that's what Google (AI mode) tells me. I don't actually remember the last milk bottle I saw or opened.
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