I entered an elevator with a man who appeared to me to be Latino. I was closer to the buttons than he so I asked him which floor he’d like me to select? He said what I thought was ‘cinco’ so I repeated the word cinco loudly and with a little Trebekian flair then immediately froze as I tried to translate in my head which number is cinco.
During my deer in the headlights moment, he clarified (in a voice that had absolutely no hint of any kind of a foreign accent) that he originally said “Second” and that I misunderstood him. He congratulated me on my use of cinco and we had a laugh then he daparted the elevator at floor two and I felt like a jackass. The end.