“Personal Assistant needed for Yoga Guru/Self-Empowerment Coach,” read the advertisement on Craigslist’s Part-Time Jobs section. I stared at the title for a few seconds before I even clicked the headline, trying to read between the lines and detect any funny business.

I’m definitely a yoga person, I’m constantly seeking self awareness and empowerment, and I’ve been an assistant before. But who would this “Guru”/boss be? That seemed to be the most important question. Some of these people are quacks. Would this one be? I was about to find out.

As I clicked on the post, I smirked with intrigue. The Guru’s website was revealed. I clicked again. I was led to a site of a person with a gender-ambiguous name. But I soon clicked “Bio” and saw that, of course, he was a man, and looked like just what you’d think a guru who advertises himself online.

He was tall, very fit, “metro-sexual,” in his early 40s, with a pose that undoubtedly a body-language coach placed him in (or maybe he himself is a body language coach). The pose said, “I’m interested and invested in YOU. Will you go there with me?”

After ten minutes of perusal, I learned about this man’s upbringing as an overweight boy and about his subsequent obsessional plunge into competitive bodybuilding (um, do you have to include competition pictures?) and watched videos of him doing partner yoga with beautiful females, dressed in white. I closed my internet browser.

I had a bad taste in my mouth. Frankly, I’m sick of these people. Maybe it’s because I’ve met a lot of these types. They are all over the city, and they are weird. They often have complexes and addictions themselves. This man has two homes and consults stars, but he was only willing to pay a personal assistant $15 an hour.

I already knew that I was going to apply for the job. But I needed to do one last thing: Google him. I found that he had been arrested a few years ago regarding a “domestic violence dispute” with an ex-girlfriend. The charges had been dropped, but still…it was an affirmation, and one which lead me to the most important question: Why do I need him? I have myself. And the best teachers teach you that.

That day, I had just learned that I’d been called back for a play at a regional theatre. What was I doing? Did I want that job or the Guru magician’s assistant job? I wanted that job. So today I deleted the note about Mr. Guru and went to the regional theater callback. I found out a few hours later that I booked that job.

The Guru is inside you. They don’t tell you that on Craigslist.