When I was growing up, milk delivery was made by a guy in a motorcycle. He'd come up to the gate and pour milk onto a pot that we'd carry out. He'd drive away, and we'd go to the kitchen to boil that milk in said pot. This was before we got a supermarket nearby and could buy milk in cartons.
I didn't eject a USB stick for years because I thought memory damage was a myth. One day I actually corrupted a USB drive (the damage is irreversible, by the way) when I took it out while it was still trying to write. From that point forward, I always eject the drive.
This reminds me of Harry Eng's Impossible Bottles.