Most embarassing moment: when I was at Cal Poly Pomona, working with one of the Arab yearlings. I think this colt's name was Ka-Bomb or something like that. Anyway, he had a reputation for being a real flake-- a horse that would shy and freak out at sparrows flying by, at bushes waving in the wind, just about anything.
It was in May, and it gets hot in Pomona that time of the year. I was wearing jeans and a halter top, which was acceptable garb for a college student in Southern California in the mid-70's. I was waiting outside the barn at the new Kellogg Equestrian Center for someone to come and look at Ka-Bomb. I was holding onto his lead rope fairly close to his head, because he was definitely not a horse you wanted to hold on a long lead.
He was standing fairly quietly when suddenly the side door on the barn came sliding open (it was a big door that slid on a track). Ka-Bomb wasn't expecting that and neither was I. He freaked out and shied right into me, knocking me off my feet. Not wanting to have to go chasing off after him, I instinctively kept hold of the lead rope. Ka-Bomb started to take off and I scrambled to get up. And somehow, in the scramble and the dragging, my halter top got dragged out of place, shall we say.
I got up somehow or other, struggling with the horse with one hand and trying to get my halter top into place with the other, while the people who had opened the barn door-- Norman Dunn, head of the horse program at Cal Poly, and the school vet, whose name I forget, stood there about keeling over with laughter.
Embarassed was a pretty mild description of what I was feeling!