Oh lord, I still blush when I think about this;
I was stopping at my exBFs one night and had come straight from work so decided to have a bath. He shouted to me that he'd ordered a pizza and was nipping to the shop to pick up a bottle of wine for me. As fate would have it, he got caught in a queue at the shop and, as I was just getting out of the bath, the delivery man arrived at the door.
I stuck my dressing gown on, grabbed my handbag and answered the door, but couldn't find my purse. I then remembered there had been a huge queue behind me as I'd come out of the park and ride car park earlier, so I'd flashed my permit at the barrier, then chucked my purse into the back seat of the car so I didn't hold anyone up.
I explained to the delivery man that I needed to get my purse, squeezed past him and went to my car, thinking to myself "Go round the far side so you don't bend over in your dressing gown and flash him!", grabbed my purse and made my way back into the house to pay for the pizza.
Unfortunately for me, it was raining outside and my wet feet hit the laminate flooring just inside the house, resulting in me hitting the floor spread-eagled in just my bath robe and flashing everything God has given me to the rather bemused delivery man!
I've never ordered from them again, and still want to die.