I remember that disgusting free milk that used to come round in the big blue crates filled with those little bottles of milk-slowly-turning-to-yoghurt.
Especially in the summer, the trick was to get to the front of the queue and then casually feel the milk bottles before picking them.
The ones in the middle of the crate tended to be still relatively cool, and so just about bearable to drink.
If you were unlucky enough to get one from round the edge, it could be anything from just unpleasantly warm to disgustingly yoghurty and clumpy. You'd have to choke back the disgusting vomity warm liquid, without gagging.
Woe betide you if you refused to drink your milk. You only made that mistake once.
And then one day we came into school, and it wasn't there any more.