More Than a Gay Bar

Bambusa Bar and Grill - described by many as the most straight gay bar and the most gay straight bar - closed in late February after a 20-year run of making people feel comfortable in a diverse setting, sometimes to their own surprise. Often dubbed Naples’ only gay bar, or gay Cheers, Bambusa was welcoming to more than the LGBTQ+ community. 

Longtime former City of Naples Mayor Bill Barnett exemplifies many of the Bambusa clientele. He and his wife Chris first visited Bambusa in Naples approximately 18 years ago when they received a gift card. Barnett was mayor at the time.

“Did we even know it was a gay bar at first?” he asks his wife. 

“No,” she replies, as the couple chats outside, leaning on a cocktail table on one of the final days before Bambusa’s closing. 

The Barnetts, like many visitors, soon learned when they watched the karaoke and drag performers that they were in a unique place - and they enjoyed the dinner and the show, they said. 

So, the Barnetts kept coming back regularly for the excellent service, quality food, and entertainment— whether drag performances, bingo, karaoke, and/or the frequent visits of world-renowned performers. Often, surprise entertainment guests came to Bambusa from nearby establishments, including Opera Naples, Gulfshore Playhouse, Naples Philharmonic, which is now part of Artis—Naples, and others. 

Bambusa offered a New York City feel combined with a small-town feeling, customers described. 

While many guests were traditional married couples, like the Barnetts, Bambusa was often called the “gay Cheers,” said Kimber Oberg, a server at Bambusa.

Even if everyone didn’t know your name, the environment created by owners Mel Biondi and Steve Soutner allowed people to feel safe to express themselves, said customers and employees alike.

“This place is a safe haven for me,” said Oberg. 

“You walk in the door and you know you are with family,” she said, adding that she wasn’t sure where her career would take her next. 

Michael Lyncheski, one of the younger customers, was mourning the loss of the place. “I met my partner here,” Lyncheski said. “It’s the only place I felt comfortable being gay,” he said. 

The impetus for the closing was the sale of the building, located in a small plaza on Goodlette Frank Road. Changes in costs and agreements led to the decision to close, owners said.

“We’re not retiring. It’s been a good run. We had an opportunity to take an exit ramp, so we took it,” said Biondi. 

Biondi and Soutner are long-time business and personal partners who have owned and operated several restaurants over the past 50 years. They are both real estate professionals as well.

A new restaurant and bar is likely coming in Bambusa's place, with a new business model and new owners. 

“The Bambusa name stays with us,” said Biondi. 

“Who knows, maybe we’ll reopen in a new location. We’re not hard-wired to retire,” he said. 

“We have been a community staple,” Biondi said. “Since our clientele is so mixed, the people who came to bingo, they’re equally upset,” he said. “They’re not going to have a place to get away from their husbands for a couple hours each week,” he said of some “Bitchy Bingo” regulars. 

“We never labeled ourselves as a gay bar. We were always a welcoming bar to everyone,” said Biondi. “We have a great clientele. It’s very mixed,” he added.

To some visitors, it was a bit of a mystery how Bambusa managed to stay out of the fray during political controversies and welcomed such diversity without much ado about it. 

Biondi said it was subtle yet by design. Naturals in hospitality, he and Soutner ensured everyone felt comfortable - there were no big rainbow flags outside, no political signs, no supporting of one religious group over another. 

Bambusa created an environment that some people strive to create in their own life during a time of heightened political controversy, a place where people with opposing views dance and sit elbow to elbow and have fun. 

“People feel like they’re walking into their own homes. It’s so obvious, you don’t see it,” said Biondi. 

“A police officer came up to me, ‘Mayor, what are you doing in here?’” Barnett recalled. 

He and the police officer were off duty, both enjoying themselves. 

“For us, this is a part of Naples,” he said. “These people are my constituents. They are all walks of life - doctor friends of mine, people who worked for the city, just regular old people,” said Barnett. “I was never uncomfortable, ever. You never knew who you were going to run into here. TV personalities, musicians, politicians, from the ultra-wealthy to all walks of life,” said Barnett. “They came because it was fun,” he said. 

“Today is a sad day for us,” his wife added as they walked in for one of their last evenings at Bambusa. 

The entertainers, led by show manager Lisa Renee, are as sad as the customers, which included Lisa Renee’s father, who attended almost every drag show and Bitchy Bingo. His support was unwavering and without a fuss, she described. She and drag performer Alyssa Lemay would often banter, drawing laughs during bingo and wowing crowds during the Bambusa Babes drag performances, started years prior by Meagan Towers, who since retired. 

Karaoke with Tommy T was a mainstay that brought in a variety of singers over the years. 

Entertainment was as integral as the food and beverage.

A Bambusa cook asks what Alexia Cicconi would like to eat for dinner as she applies purple eyeshadow, wigs, and a wide variety of makeup on the counter beside her, as she prepares for a final show. 

“Most of the people here are on the straighter side,” said Mya Valentine, also applying a differing shade of purple eyeshadow in the makeshift dressing room as fiancé Zander Hernandez walks in with refreshments.

When asked about pronouns, Hernandez replies, “He’s not put together yet. As soon as the lashes are on, that’s it, bam, woman,” Hernandez says of Mia Valentine. 

“I’m just going to miss the people,” says Valentine. “They’re more like family than customers,” says the performer known for her dramatic surprise splits mid-performance. 

“If you didn’t come out, you missed a great show,” said Valentine, dabbing contour as she prepared for the final Saturday night performance just days before the end-of-month closing. 

Perhaps we’ll all meet again in a new place, Biondi said.