Between the Dynettes' sets, dancers hunker and squirm to "Electric
Avenue," while Eddie Grant shakes his dreads on the giant video screen overhead. Two more screens cast electronic doppelgangers as reggae, new rock or punk plays.
And they're knee deep at the bar of Friendship Station, a cavernous nightclub with a Blondie poster staring down a glossy Olivia Newton-John. It's an identity-crisis club where, tonight, bubblegum girls sing '50s Shirelles and on the 20th, Ned Sephman does his single "Herpes 2." But by the 27th, they're into Celtic rock with Tannhill Weavers and on the 30th, rockabilly with Switchblade.
The crowd's twice as eclectic, with a guy in a seersucker jacket downing a 14-ounce cup of lite suds served up by a sweet, floppy-haired waitress in jogging shoes and a pair of red Bermuda shorts. "Proper Dress Required" warns a sign at the door, where you pay a $3 cover charge and show your ID to a couple of beefy blond bouncers who ought to be at Rehoboth. A sheep-and-goats kind of split occurs when the much younger crowd heads for Patton's downstairs and the 25-to-39-year-olds head upstairs for Friendship Station. There are some teens -- one with her mother -- and even a 50-year-old here or there.
There are tables even after the show starts at 10 or thereabouts. More like thereabouts. "Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, rockers and rollers, the Dynettes." Even the intro is expansive, all-inclusive, humanistic and friendly. What else?
"Going to the Chapel," sing the girls -- a Laverne de Fazio clone, an Annette Funicello doll and one kind of sassy rascal in red pumps and a tight black dress. Laverne makes a few liquid-protein jokes and they do "It's My Party (and I'll Cry if I Want To)." A fat lady in a sundress dances under a red mini-spot, remembering the night she dangled her participles and wept over some bobby-sox heart-breaker or another. FRIENDSHIP STATION -- At 4926 Wisconsin Avenue NW. 966-5682.