V: The guy who knows a guy

Vinoda Basnayake is a beltway whisperer for Middle Eastern royalty - and the Operator of DC’s sceniest nightlife spots He’s our town’s hookup to all kinds of big-name celebs, but also a super-wired foreign lobbyist. The two lives aren’t as different as yo

It’s a Sunday night at the end of a second Covid summer in Washington. Dave Chappelle is downstairs in the Kennedy Center, to screen his new documentary about doing comedy in a pandemic. Once the credits roll, a crowd will parade up here to the rooftop for the after-party. The producer of the bash is a 39-year-old born-and-bred Washingtonian named Vinoda Basnayake, our town’s hookup to the Washington Famous and the Actually Famous, too.

Basnayake’s bank- robber- themed Dupont nightclub, Heist, has been hosting sky-high parties atop the Kennedy Center all summer. But Chappelle’s private soiree is the most VIP yet—with a guest list of White House staffers, local-DC bigwigs, and the comedian’s closest friends.

Basnayake - just “V” to his friends - used to be the tour manager for a mega R&B superstar, has done tequila shots with Justin Timberlake in Vegas, and once appeared in a music video with Nicki Minaj. For the past ten years, he has operated some of DC’s sceneiest clubs and bars, drawing an international crowd and big-name celebs.

While trying to build up the city as a Saturday-night playground for the young, trendy, and ready to party, Basnayake has also held down the most Washington job in Washington. He’s a lobbyist.

A protégé of the famed late King of K Street, Tommy Boggs, Basnayake reps foreign governments and corporations. He has the ear of government on both sides of the federal/local divide - a Hill top-lobbyist list- maker, a confidant of DC mayor Muriel Bowser, and no stranger to a White House holiday party. Between nightlife and swamp life, Basnayake has thrived in the murky thickets where it pays to be the guy who knows a guy.

Two things people will tell you about V: One, he’s not the type to make enemies, which is interesting because it’s usually the other way around for influential people. Two, he’s always introducing someone to their best friend/business partner/the former President of the United States. “Only Vinoda,” says chef Spike Mendelsohn of that time his buddy Basnayake arranged for him to shake Bill Clinton’s hand at a gala at the Ritz. “That’s like an expression amongst friends: Only Vinoda.”

Washington is full of preeners who want you to think they’re more important than they really are. Basnayake knows everyone, but he’s no casual name-dropper. He may be a striver, skilled at the humblebrag and the other conversational arts that get you ahead - but he’s also legitimately charming. Maybe it’s the way he never seems like he’s trying too hard, down to his go-to basic white tee, Adidas kicks, and man bun.

Consider the following story from Jim Moran, the former Virginia congressman, who’s now Basnayake’s colleague: An embassy had been trying for years to remove the parking metres in front of its building, out of security concerns. One day, Basnayake was there getting in his car and someone from the embassy casually mentioned it. Basnayake said he’d see what he could do. Within a week, all the metres were shut down. Turns out he’s pals with the guy who headed up the city’s transportation department.

Moran first met Basnayake more than a decade ago when Basnayake was lobbying him on behalf of Sri Lanka. Moran didn’t think Sri Lanka was particularly relevant to him, but Basnayake’s persuasiveness convinced him to visit the country.

Moran first met Basnayake more than a decade ago when Basnayake was lobbying him on behalf of Sri Lanka. Moran didn’t think Sri Lanka was particularly relevant to him, but Basnayake’s persuasiveness convinced him to visit the country. “I remember him more than I do the issue itself,” says Moran. (The South Asian nation was trying to show US officials how people displaced during its civil war weren’t being mistreated.)

Basnayake is a son of Sri Lankan immigrants. His mom worked at the World Bank, Dad is an immigration attorney. He grew up in Kalorama and McLean and went to Gonzaga for high school. The first real party he ever hosted was a mixer, for the International Student Union he cofounded. “We were minority kids in a predominantly white environment,” says Shiv Newaldass, one of Basnayake’s close high-school and college friends. “To feel more integrated, we needed to do things to make sure we were known and visible.”

By the time they both enrolled at Georgetown, Basnayake was busy befriending bouncers and establishing himself as the go-to guy for going out. One night at Sole, the erstwhile late-night spot on the waterfront, the owner cornered him. “I was like, ‘Oh, shit, I’m going to get in trouble because I just got 30 underage kids in here.’ ” Instead, he says, the owner offered him his first promoter deal: If he quit sneaking people in on weekends, Sole would make Thursdays 18-and-Up Night; Basnayake could charge whatever he wanted at the door and pocket the cash. If the bar made more than $5,000, he’d get a 20-percent cut of the rest.

The side hustle morphed into a fullblown promotions company Basnayake ran with a friend. By the time he graduated, the finance/international-business double major was doing ten events a week. That year - 003 - a DJ told him about an R&B singer in the UK. Basnayake booked the artist for his first US show. Tickets sold out immediately. “So we booked an entire US tour around it,” Basnayake says. “Every city sold out.” Jay Sean had no idea he even had fans in America before Basnayake landed him the gig. “I’m South Asian. Vinoda’s South Asian,” says Jay Sean, whose real name is Kamaljit Singh Jhooti. “Vinoda was a big part in being able to see how you can take a very niche fan base and how quickly that can spread.”

After graduation, Basnayake spent two years as Jay Sean’s tour manager, then continued to work with him off and on into the peak of the singer’s fame, touring with a young Justin Bieber and arranging shows with Taylor Swift and Bruno Mars. For someone else, it might have been a dream gig. But Basnayake wanted his own hospitality company and nightclubs. He enrolled in a joint programme at Penn Law and Wharton Business School, aiming to build some credibility.

The summer before his second year, while most rising 2Ls were hitched to their desks at corporate law firms, Basnayake was still promoting. One of his venues was an outdoor nightclub at the Ronald Reagan Building. The building’s events director happened to be Barbara Boggs, who happened to be married to the famed Democratic lobbyist Tommy Boggs and who insisted Basnayake meet her husband. “She was like, ‘Just talk to him. I see all these VIPs and foreign dignitaries at your parties. I think your network of different people could be very valuable.’ ”

The following year, Basnayake landed a plum summer-associate position at Patton Boggs. He took it - why not, it was “something to do that was different.” It was also the kind of job where you got to meet a presidential hopeful named Barack Obama and geek out with other politicos. He launched his first nightclub at the same time as his lobbying career.

Basnayake got to Nelson Mullins in 2014 and three years later became the firm’s youngest partner, at age 35. He’s currently on the books as an agent for South Korea, a US ally with a trade-focused agenda in Washington. He has helped Guinea get more Ebola aid from the US government and countered attacks on President Alpha Condé during his 2015 reelection. Basnayake’s biggest current client is Qatar, the über-wealthy Arab monarchy whose ruling Al Thani family holds ultimate power over the nation’s laws and courts. The Qataris have maintained largely simpatico relations with the US. In 2017 Saudi Arabia accused the Al Thanis of supporting terrorist groups and led a crippling trade boycott against Qatar in the Persian Gulf. Seeking more Washington influence, and a more flattering narrative, the Mideast nation boosted its spending with a slew of prominent lobbying and PR firms.

It’s easy to see how there’s a special synergy, as they say, between lobbying and nightlife. Basnayake has met future clients at parties, and sometimes brings clients to his venues. “These embassies are staffed by young people,” says Bob Crowe, who hired Basnayake at Nelson Mullins. “With Vinoda, we have the ability to invite them to clubs and dinners, so it’s a great marketing tool.”

Basnayake lives in a five-story, ultramodern townhouse- with- elevator in Arlington with his two cats.

Sure, Basnayake could more than get by on just one of his careers, but that would be like neglecting half his brain. Lobbying scratches that strategic itch, nightlife hits his creative needs.