One day at lunch time I had gone into a grocery store to get a milk. This wasn't my usual routine; I usually packed leftovers for lunch and ate at my desk while reading. But there I was standing in front of maybe ten or 15-feet of “milk section,” scanning for an 8-ounce carton of milk. Remember those? The size they used to serve with school lunch? I wasn’t finding it, when a middle-aged gentleman asked, “what are you looking for?” I looked at him and said, “I wanted an 8-ounce milk, but they don’t seem to have it.” He looked at the shelves, pointed to the smallest carton, and said, “here it is.” The carton he pointed to however was a pint (16-ounces/2 cups). I said, “no, I want one cup, that’s two.” The gentleman got a confused look on his face, glanced back at the container then back at me, and said, “that’s a cup.”