Long ago, when I was a small person, we used to have milkmen. Twice a week the milk truck would come, and the the milkman would deposit bottles of milk into a milk box, which sat faithfully on our porch. The night before you would put the old empty glass bottles in the box, and occasionally a check, and the milkman would take the old bottles and leave you with new. Our milkman wore a uniform and had an abiding hatred for dogs. Sadly this stopped sometime in the 1970s, where I lived, ending my dream of growing up and becoming the greatest milkman who ever lived. Fortunately after a long period of sorrow and despair, I was able to move on and have new aspirations, and eventually I turned to a new dream: to be an elevator operator!