I worked at Verint Systems' office in Santa Clara for a few years back before the economy turned. I was hired to design what the company called "scenarios". These were little stories used by the sales team when they were out in the field pushing our products. When one of the sales agents met with a client, he or she could pull out one of these scenarios and read it. A friend of mine helped me get the job. He was on good terms with Chase, the manager in charge of the scenarios group.

"We hear that you're a good writer, " Chase said when he interviewed me. You have to understand that Chase had been with the company for years, moving from place to place, and he looked tired all the time. He seemed to carry a mug full of coffee around with him at all times, but I swear I never saw him drink from it.

"I can write, " I said. "I don't judge its quality. Other people do that."

"I don't believe you, " Chase said. "You don't have to be modest."

"I've done a lot of this stuff, " I said. "Marketing materials and that sort of thing."

"But you'd rather be a serious writer, " Chase said. "Writing great novels and touring the country."

"I wouldn't say that, " I said.

"Again, I don't believe you, " Chase told me.

"I'm trying to be honest, " I said.

"That's an interesting thing to say, " Chase said. "How do you 'try' to be honest? Either you are honest or you're not."

"That's not true, " I told him. "I don't know how I'd feel if I was a famous author. Probably I'd hate it most of the time."

"But there are aspects of that kind of life that appeal to you, " Chase said.

"I suppose so, " I said. "But I don't know what it's like. So the parts that I think might appeal to me might only exist in my imagination."

"But the point is that you don't really want to be here, " Chase told me.

"I want to work, " I said. "It's been a while."

"Your resume does have holes in it, " Chase said.

"I moved back home for a while, " I told him. "It's a personal thing. I don't think I have to elaborate."

"No you don't, " Chase said. And then he wrote something down on the pad of paper he had in front of him. "The point is that I've heard good things about you."

"I know you're doing me a favour, " I said. "But I will work hard. I'll do a good job."

"I can see that, " Chase said. "Don't worry about anything. I'm going to hire you."

"I was worried that you were having doubts, " I said.

"Now you're being honest, " Chase told me. "You can build on that."

Chase explained the whole scenarios concept to me in his office the day I started. "This is an idea I pitched to the company, " he said. "And now they've implemented it in every sales office."

"Congratulations, " I said.

"I'm not trying to be immodest, " Chase told me. "But this is important. This is command central for scenario-building. We have to get it right."

"From what I understand, we make up stories in which Verint products are used, " I said.

"You have it all wrong, then, " Chase said. "We never mention Verint products in the scenarios. That's the most important rule."

"I don't get it, " I said.

"The scenarios aren't commercials, " Chase told me. "They're not meant to showcase the products. You really want to write some nonsense where something happens and Verint steps in to save the day?"

"I didn't say I wanted to do that, " I told him.

"Scenarios are about setting a certain tone, " Chase said. "That's maybe the best way I can describe them to you in one sentence. They're actually quite hard to describe."

"I'm starting to realize that, " I said.

Chase handed me a folder he had on his desk. "Read through these, " he said. "You'll get the picture. I hope you'll get the picture. Take the whole day if you have to. This is some of our best work. Most of these were written by me. I won't lie to you. But there are some from other members of the team you can look at as well."

So I took the folder and went to my desk. I opened it up and started reading off the page on top. "Bill owns a motel on highway 101 near Fresno, " the text began. "His father started the business, and Bill took it over when the old man was killed in a car accident at the age of thirty-eight. Bill was eighteen at the time. He never went to college.

"Bill was happy with his life most of the time. The motel was making money, and he didn't have to do all that much to keep it making money. The cleaning staff cleaned it, his accountant did the bookkeeping, and he called in plumbers and electricians and so forth as needed. Life was easy.

"Except the thing is that Bill sometimes felt like he was missing out on something. He felt that there were important experiences that one had to go through in life, and that he never had the chance to go through them himself because he had been sucked into the motel business at such a young age.

"So every once in a while when Bill was not on duty he'd get in his car and drive up and down Highway 101. He never had a particular destination in mind. He'd simply drive as far as he felt like in one direction, then turn around, pass his motel, and go as far as he felt like in the other direction.

"Bill never gave much thought as to why he did this. He knew he was searching for something, but he could not say what. He believed, somewhere deep down, that he might find whatever it is that he had lost if he drove around and looked for it. He thought that something might jump out at him out of the blue, and then his life would never be the same.

"One time Bill came back from one of his drives and saw a police car parked outside the motel lobby. He walked in and saw his night manager speaking with two officers. "What's the problem?" Bill asked.

"'We were robbed, ' the night manager told him. 'Someone came in here and pointed a gun at me. There was another one of them driving and he sped off as soon as the one with the gun got back.'

"The officers asked Bill if he was the owner of the place, and he confirmed that he was. He then answered a few questions for the men. They turned back to the night manager and talked to him more for a while. When they left the sun was starting to come up.

"'I'm sorry about what happened, ' the night manager said to Bill after the police were gone.

"'There's no reason to be sorry, ' Bill said. 'You did everything right from the sounds of it.'

"'It's awful, ' the night manger said. 'I don't know what else to say. It's awful. I feel sick.'

"'It is awful, ' Bill said. 'Go home and relax. Try to put everything out of your mind.'

"'I don't know if I can go home, ' the night manager said. 'I can't drive. I know that for sure.'

"Bill pulled a key out from behind the counter. 'Go to room eight, ' he told the night manager. 'Take as much time as you need.'

"The night manager took the key and left. Bill stood there alone in the lobby, going over everything that happened in his mind.

"It was then that Bill realized that he felt regret. He felt regret because he wasn't at the counter when the robbers came in. He was out in his car. The night manager was robbed instead of him.

"Bill realized then that if someone had stuck a gun in his face, he would have done everything he could to fight the man. He would have leaped across the counter and tried to tackle him to the ground. He would have taken the gun and shot the robber if that's what it took.

"Bill also realized that, in such a scenario, there was a good chance that he himself would be shot, and possibly even killed. The crazy thing is that Bill seemed to enjoy thinking about that possibility the most. Of all the possible endings to the story he was inventing in his mind, that one held the most appeal for him.

"Bill then realized that his thoughts were taking him down a dark road, and quickly stopped letting his imagination run wild. He then did what he did best. He took his place behind the counter in the lobby of his motel."

The whole story was printed neatly on one page, in small type. I grabbed it and went back to Chase's office. "I don't get this, " I told him, dropping the page on his desk.

"That was one of my first, " Chase said. "I used that one as an example when I pitched the idea to the company."

"I'm supposed to write something like this?" I said.

"We'll expect a scenario a week, " Chase told me. "It can be a challenge at times, coming up with new ideas. But we have brainstorming sessions and that sort of thing. You work in a team, remember."

"It's not the writing itself, " I said. "I just don't understand how these are supposed to work."

"Let the salespeople worry about that, " Chase told me.

"I find it hard to believe that they even use them, " I said.

"Believe it, " Chase said. "I get all kinds of positive feedback from the sales group. You know, they know how to handle this sort of material. Like I said, the scenarios are meant to set a certain mood before the serious conversation begins. That's the best way I can describe them to you. I'm still not doing a very good job at that."

"I'd like to see a salesperson using one in person, " I said. "I need to see that."

Chase thought about my idea for a moment. "I'm not sure if that's feasible, " he said. "Your presence might be seen as in intrusion."

"Or maybe you know that the salespeople never use these and you don't want me to find out, " I said.

"You're good at making up stories, " Chase said. "You should do quite well at this."

"I'll talk to one of them myself, " I said. "I'll ask one of them outright if they have ever used one of your scenarios."

"They wouldn't tell you, " Chase said. "The sales team talks to me. But you're a new hire. They're not going to give away their secrets."

I sat down in a chair in the corner of Chase's office. "So what am I supposed to do now?" I asked.

"Keep reading the examples, " Chase said. "Go home and read them if that's easier for you. We're flexible here."

"I don't know how well I'm going to do at a job I don't understand, " I said.

"You'll do fine, " Chase said. "Believe me. Everyone does fine."