Few modern devices give me the anxiety jitters quite as much as the dreaded milk jug. You know the one — that metal dispenser you find at the end of every queue in your local Costa or Starbucks or Cath’s Cafe. The exclamation point on every up-til-then successful drinks order. It’s there, waiting to pounce.
The previous generation of milk jugs were ugly but functional. The kind of thing that you’d use with your cereal — cheap, plastic and, crucially, transparent. They would proudly display how much milk they contained. Somehow, this became outdated — in an age of obscurity, even the milk level is unknown. Instead, we’re left to play a form of milk Russian Roulette. How far do I have to tip this jug before its entire contents is decanted onto my shoes?
That’s assuming, of course, that you know how the damn thing works in the first place. Every snazzy jug comes with its own box of tricks. Its own whoopee cushion, ready to catch you our. That lid on the top — does it need to be unscrewed? That button — should it be pressed? Or will that open the lid, and leave you with a flood of milk?
Who knows, because of course there are no instructions. No “Push” and “Pull” to give you a hint. Each milk jug arrogantly expects you to have mastered its quirks by sight alone.
And let’s not even mention the line of people behind you. The ever-building crowd, ready to witness your struggles. All secretly thinking “There but for the grace of God … “
Here’s a niche: Milk Jug Mentor. Mastered the art of the modern milk jug, and are willing to share? Take my money.