Sometimes you simply luck out. One thing leads to another and you realize you have, for whatever reason, been given a bit of a reward.

I stood alone in an elevator traveling up, and I knew that this was the one bit of alone time I would have to be able to express the brilliant jubilation I'd been trying to contain.

So I did what I'd like to think anyone would do. Taking advantage of the moment, I jumped up and down, squealed and danced about for a good solid 15 seconds. And when the doors opened, I walked out into the hallway - and one of the most surreal, fun experiences I've ever had - the very picture of composure, style and grace.

***

I can't help it. This kind of thing doesn't happen at home, but I always wander into magical moments in Davis Square. Which is why...anyway.

I'd hopped from the green line to red, on a trajectory that would land me at the Someday in time to meet up with M and R before Anna's and a singer-songwriter night at The Burren. I'm standing on the corner near the cafe, and Michelle has just told me that she's parking her car and will meet up with me in a moment.

The trees in the park glitter, golden lights shimmering among the leaves. Everyone seems to be taking advantage of a gorgeous night that will be followed by a leisurely Monday - most of the benches are full, the tables are spoken for and people are eager for any other available flat surface.

I cross the street and lean against a lamp post as the busker launches into the familar hum of "America."

(When it comes to all-time favorites, I tend to select songs over bands. "America" has long been among the top five on my list, and I have been voraciously listening to the Ryan Montbleau cover of the song downloaded about two weeks ago.)

The busker's audience - young, old, couples, singletons - nod heads in time, sighing and smiling as they close their eyes or lean back to look up at the sky and the twinkling lights...

Let us be lovers, we'll marry our fortunes together, I've got some real estate here in my bag...

***

Red walls, dark tables. Benches and booths, with a clientele that seems composed of regulars who sip their favorite pints of beer.

As I drink ale with an orange slice garnish, I could see why. I would be a regular at The Burren as well - in the meantime, I might have to make a habit of stopping by.

The band performing has prompted a guy and gal near our table to dance like mad. I think a lot of beer also helped them along, but hey. They're funny - drunk, but definitely not obnoxious drunk. I'm dividing my attention among the band, the dancers and the guy in the corner booth who caught my eye.

When the band launches into a cover of "What I Got," we bob our heads and sing along - and suddenly Drunk Dancer Guy is taking my hand and trying to pull me from the bench.

"DANCE with me," he says as I laughingly shake my head and point to my beer. He's persistent, so after several refusals, I laugh at M and stand to dance in the tiny space between our table and the stage.

Applause breaks out and my face turns bright red. The table behind us cheers and hollers as a huge grin breaks across Drunk Dancer Guy's face. I shoot M playful death daggers. She's too busy laughing to care.

The song ends and I receive a Drunk Dancing Guy kiss of the hand. Which, when all is said and done, is awfully sweet, in a hilarious sort of way.

Added bonus? Shared smile with Corner Booth Guy.

Teehee. I love this place.