Dad did, I almost did.
When my Dad was a kid he had a bolt action .410. It's in my cabinet now, hasn't been shot in ages. Here's why. Dad was getting ready to go bust some bunnies and tree rats, figured he'd just top off the mag (detachable box) before putting on the gloves and stepping out into January weather. He works the bolt, BANG! upon closing. He'd put so many rounds through it that the sear is worn WAY beyond safe limits. If I take it out of the cabinet now, work the bolt and put the safety on, I can drop the firing pin by tapping the trigger SIDEWAYS.
My near ND was shortly after returning stateside from the service. Single life as a civilian was agreeing with me, had a job and apartment all to myself. Shotgun by bedside, out of habit. One night I'm laying in bed, sound asleep, when I here a "Whump!" and I come up with the shottie, I actually really woke up when the bolt went foreward. That's when I saw the laundry I'd stacked up had fallen over. You know, single guy, last pair of skivvies, 8 baskets of clothes to do all at once. Stacking them up gives a Tower of Pisa effect.