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Concourse
C at bustling SeaTac Airport does not seem to be a place to release
tension. Speakers blare out the latest flight information. Travelers
frantic to make connections scurry through the t Not
exactly a quiet, peaceful setting for massage. Yet right in the middle
of all this bustle is an oasis of relaxation that has grown into a
lucrative practice. It is Massage Bar, Inc.®, the brainstorm
of 38-year-old massage therapist Cary Cruea (pronounced "Cru-ee").
There a group of massage therapists serve up sessions that soften the
rock-hard necks and shoulders, unkink strained backs, and soothe frayed
nerves of air travelers. So
popular is her concept that Cruea's corporation has grossed $3 million
dollars from two hundred twenty-five thousand clients at four Massage
Bar sites--one at the Washington State Convention and Trade Center in
downtown Seattle, two at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport (Sea-Tac),
and one at Nashville (Tennessee) International Airport. If the rest of
Cruea's innovative plans fall into place, her practice will multiply by
the end of 2000. Her success proves the point that with imagination, guts, and sound business practices, enterprising massage therapists can defy the stereotype of modest incomes that hovers over the profession. Original
Thinker Catering
to people on site is not a new idea. Massage therapists have been
offering seated massage since the 1980s. [See page 40-Ed.]What's
original is Cruea's version--getting massage at a bar.
"It's
important to get massage out from behind closed doors and in your
face," Cruea adds. Hence, the controversial name, Massage Bar. In
fact, clients do literally belly up to a bar. Her
massage therapists at Concourse C do not work with stand-alone massage
chairs. Customers sit in teal-colored, vinyl-covered, ergonomically
designed chairs, their faces prone on face rests that are attached to a
counter. Cruea designed the six-station "bar" and had the
hexagonal structure built of birch and alder, stained to look like
cherry wood, and edged with brass. In the center of the counter stands
an upside-down vee of the same wood, holding aloft the Massage Bar sign.
On top of the bar sits a smaller sign that reads Visa and Master Card.
Underneath, the counter base has two doors that open to a hollow core,
where face rests and cash register are stored during off hours. Whereas
most massage therapists have a private space to work in, the Massage Bar
is an entirely open site, delineated by a 12 x 20 ft. piece of green
carpeting. Large silk plants in baskets frame each of the two shorter
ends. (Real plants suffered so much abuse--people poured coffee and Coke
into them or left trash there--that Cruea replaced them with silk
replicas.) In front of the plants, clients wait in regular teal
chairs--three to a side--that face the Massage Bar. A coat rack stands
in one corner. In another corner a cash register sits on a small
rectangular counter. Luggage rests against the huge window. Despite the
steady stream of airport sounds, gentle music is audible from a CD
player. Even
the massage therapists are color-coordinated while on duty. The three
men and three women on the afternoon shift wear green polo shirts, black
slacks, and black shoes. All the practitioners sport Port of Seattle
photo ID cards. Each has had a police background check before getting
such a card. The on-site supervisors, or Bar Tenders, wear a purple
shirt. They greet customers, a balance of male and female business and
leisure travelers, who range in age from 20s to 40s. Many of them have
already had a professional massage, while others are interested in
trying it here because it's safe--out in the open and with clothes on. The
bar tenders have them sign up (the same form is also a medical waiver),
assign them a massage therapist and seat, and collect payment at the
cash register. They also help clean stations with a germicidal spray,
since there's no sink for water. Additionally, practitioners clean their
hands with antiseptic after each session and place fresh paper towels
(with a slit in the middle) on the face rests. All
these details present a strong professional image and provoke the
inevitable question: Why didn't I think of that? Cruea got to it first
through a series of unpredictable circumstances that eventually
connected to create her success. |
erminal
pulling suitcases behind them or shifting heavy bags from one shoulder
to the other. Airplanes, visible through plate glass windows, line up to
disgorge or swallow passengers. 
"Fun
is important to mainstreaming massage," says the slender, blue-eyed
entrepreneur who sports a fresh, young look for a corporate executive.
Behind her wire-rimmed glasses is no makeup. Her blondish hair is short
and sporty. Her dress style is professional but casual: fine-checked
black and white slacks, black jacket, deep royal blue silk shirt, black
shoes, and black belt. Two silver earrings adorn her right ear. A gold
chain around her neck holds a white whale's tail.