On Wednesday, Friday and Saturday nights, this narrow, smoky dive just north of downtown Tampa fills up with alternately tone-deaf and seasoned singers who belt out everything from Patsy Cline to Madonna. The scene is typical of any other overlooked neighborhood bar that offers karaoke, American beer and cheap well drinks; however, there’s one very queer thing about this place: the patrons. Here at Azalea’s, heteros are the minority. The women talk about football, the men ignore them, and everyone singing and watching has a gay old time — regardless of their particular orientation.
This article appears in Sep 12-18, 2007.