Attention single ladies: you are cursed. Literally.

Mistletoe will break the curse, right!? Plus, I'm wearing this alluring vest.

Fine, we admit it. We read Modern Love on occasion. But usually, it is filled with very practical advice like how to secretly have an open marriage while your husband works out his midlife crisis. You know, relevant wisdom. However, the most recent column has us a little worried.

It follows a 38-year-old single woman (obviously a “witch”, metaphorically speaking) who travels from New York City to Israel and consults a kabbalist rabbi who declares:

“Someone has cursed you. This is why you are not married.”

But not to fear other cursed witches single ladies! She simply paid $100 for a marriage blessing.

“You will meet a man who will love you and give you Jewish children. He will please you sexually and love you more than he loves his mother.”

“Impossible!”, you might protest. Oh you of little faith:

[T]he holidays passed unremarkably, and when my oldest friend teased, “Hey, weren’t you supposed to meet your husband?” — much to both our surprise, I broke down in tears.

I went to [an ex’s] best friend’s holiday party anyway, taking extra care with my appearance so [my ex-boyfriend] could see what he was missing. He didn’t notice me, so I drank and flirted randomly, singing karaoke with whoever was up at the mike, until I finally, drunkenly, decided to leave.

“Where are you going?” a deep voice boomed from the coat room as I scoured the winter wool pile. I couldn’t see the guy’s face in the darkness, but I recognized his voice as my karaoke partner (“Total Eclipse of the Heart”). “Don’t leave yet,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to an empty room in the back. His name was Solomon, and he had dark, curly hair, a thick-lipped smile and soft musician’s hands, which played with mine as we chatted for the next hour until the party petered out.

I didn’t think much of it until two days later, when I got a voice mail message from him: “Amy, this is Solomon. I met you at the bar the other night — I just wanted to say Happy Hanukkah.”

So, even though our dear columnist claims to be nonchallant about whether or not deep-voiced and sexually-pleasing-soft-hands Solomon is “the one”, she conludes with this:

Religiously dictated or not, a miracle is still a miracle.

Hear that single ladies! You are probably literally cursed, but regardless it will be “a miracle” if you find someone! Happy Holidays! So yes, in conclusion, either way it is probably best to focus on festively drinking your way to Mr. Right (Now).

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