When a greedy capitalist slips a few coins into a vending machine, he arrogantly expects his own individually prepackaged soda. But the citizens of the U.S.S.R were prepared to share—everything from public housing to sidewalk soda pop. Behold, the sacramental chalice of Soviet carbonated beverages.

Beginning in the mid-20th century, self-service soda fountains could be found everywhere in Russia—on the side of the street, at shopping centers, at farmer’s markets. One kopeck bought you a glass of straight seltzer water, while three kopecks bought you a shot of flavored syrup, plus the water, fizzled into the cup on the spot. Conceivably, you finished your beverage in a few gulps while standing, replaced the glass, and walked on. Placed upside down, the glass was then rinsed (via nifty contraption that spritzed its insides with cold tap water), and stood ready for the next customer. The glass itself was only replaced occasionally. Germaphobes need not apply.

Naturally, over time, these machines were vandalized, destroyed, hijacked, and hacked. Owners began chaining the cup to the grill to prevent someone from walking off with it. Some customers could fix the machine’s guts to produce colder water, and children learned to coax multiple flavor shots out of the spouts for the price of one. Today in Russia, the machines are far and few between, mostly found in snapshots accompanied by gawking tourists. But once, they stood as proof of the fact that Soviet citizens trusted, or at least tolerated, each other enough to drink from the same glass.