Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, March 7, 1995 TAG: 9503070068
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: CHRIS COLSTON CORRESPONDENT
DATELINE: BLACKSBURG LENGTH: Long
Over the last few years, nobody has delivered more Girl Scout cookies. Last year she sold 751 boxes, her personal record and the best in her district, an area that covers 3,000 square miles in Montgomery, Floyd, Pulaski, Giles, Wythe, Grayson and Carroll counties.
If you're cursing those extra pounds you put on this winter, it's probably Corwin's fault.
Surely someone so successful has a special schtick, a particular knack for salesmanship, a gift of dazzling charm.
Well, here's how Lily Corwin, a freshman at Blacksburg High School, does it:
She goes up to a door. She rings the bell. If someone answers, she smiles.
"I'm selling Girl Scout Cookies," she says. "Would you like some?"
That's it. There is no secret after all. Her reason for success: "Determination, I guess.
"Anyone who isn't obnoxious" can do it, she says. If she has a gimmick, it's this: ring the doorbell no more than twice, and if the people say "no," don't fight them on it.
After nine years of selling cookies, she's built up a regular clientele. "I have people who wait on me to come by each year," she says. "Sometimes they will see me around town, and they'll stop me and ask, 'Is it Girl Scout Cookie time yet?'"
Unless it's the two-week period that runs from the last week in January to the first week of February, the answer is "no." Speaking of that, Corwin - despite her success - still hears plenty of "no's" on her rounds, particularly at the end of cookie-selling season, when most of the hot spots have already been solicited.
On this particular day, the wind chill factor is below zero and Corwin's cheeks are a rosy pink. A black leather jacket helps stave off the bitter wind. Strands of strawberry blond hair flow from underneath her black baseball cap.
Her first potential customer opens the door, recognizes what's happening and says "no" before Corwin has popped her simple spiel.
"OK," Corwin says, unfazed. "Thank you!"
Another door.
"Not this year, thank you."
Another.
"I've already ordered."
Knock, knock!
"I teach piano, and I've already purchased boxes from all of my students."
Ding-dong!
"I'm on a diet."
Corwin has an answer for this one. "For the first time ever," she says with a smile, "We're offering Snaps. They're low-fat."
"Well," says the customer slowly, "what are they made of?"
"They're iced oatmeal-raisin cookies."
"Uh," the customer says, "I have diabetes."
Next.
"I don't have any money right now."
"You don't have to pay until the cookies arrive," Corwin assures the customer.
"Well, then, I don't want any."
Another door, another excuse.
"Sometimes you hear reasons that don't make any sense," she says. "Like, 'My arm is broken.'"
But Corwin eventually finds a college student who buys four boxes. This late in the short selling season, that's a pretty good sale.
Not that it matters much. She's already sold more than 300 boxes. This is just icing on the cake - er, cookie.
The average customer buys two or three boxes. Her biggest order is usually 10 or 12 boxes. Most men buy the Thin Mints; women choose Samoas.
The proceeds help pay for some pretty good excursions. "One year the cookie sales paid for a trip to New Orleans," Corwin says. "Another paid for a trip to Savannah to see the birth place of the Girl Scout founder, Juliette Low. We've also been to Busch Gardens and gone camping."
The cookie money also helps to pay for a Christmas party in concert with Total Action Against Poverty, where every scout invites a child and gives him or her a gift.
Corwin's cookie-selling career began in the first grade, when she was a Brownie. "It was easy then," she says. "People prefer to order from little kids."
While many scouts wearied of the task, Corwin relished it. Like a good insurance salesman, she retained her old clientele and cultivated new customers.
Retail outlets are good to her. Corwin was one of the first Girl Scouts to solicit downtown Blacksburg merchants. "The people at Fringe Benefit kind of expect me this time of year," she says.
"We've known Lily for years," says co-owner Judy Murray. "We always wait for her. She's our regular cookie person."
Other fertile ground, Corwin says, is outside a video store. "Especially late at night. Couples like to eat cookies while watching movies."
College dormitories can be a gold mine, since they offer plenty of potential customers in a centralized location. "A lot of Scouts don't go to the dorms, because they believe college students won't pay up," she says. "But I like it. They always have something interesting to say and they've always paid me."
by CNB