I used to work in a boat shop - wooden boats, we repaired them. The barn we worked in was 3 stories tall, we had a pulley system for lifting stuff up to the third floor. Of course I needed to ride that pulley down. All the guys were gathered at the bottom watching as I stepped on the hook and swung out; almost immediately my foot slipped off the hook and my hands started slipping down the rope. I finally found purchase right at the knot that held the hook in place but not until the hook had slid up the length of my body pulling my shirt and bra up over my face.
Hanging from a rope with my clothes wrapped around my head with no idea how close I was to the ground.
As though that weren't enough one of my breasts was substantially larger than the other, so I had a filler pad in one cup... it drifted down, like a leaf in the wind, and landed at the feet of my boat guys.
Rain of mortification.
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