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{{DISPLAYTITLE:<span style="font-size:22px;">{{BASEPAGENAME}}/</span>{{SUBPAGENAME}}}} | {{DISPLAYTITLE:<span style="font-size:22px;">{{BASEPAGENAME}}/</span>{{SUBPAGENAME}}}} | ||
{{MR02}} | {{MR02}} | ||
{{byline|last=Stratton|first=Richard|abstract=A writer recounts his relationship with Norman {{NM}}, beginning in the | {{byline|last=Stratton|first=Richard|abstract=A writer recounts his relationship with Norman {{NM}}, beginning in the {{date|1970}}s. |url=https://prmlr.us/mr02str}} | ||
|url=https://prmlr.us/ | |||
{{dc|dc=“I|t was the early 1970 | {{dc|dc=“I|t was the early {{date|1970}}’s.”}} I was living in [[w:Provincetown, Massachusetts|Provincetown, Massachusetts]], on a writing fellowship at the [[w:Fine Arts Work Center|Fine Arts Work Center]]. Across Commercial Street, the narrow lane meandering through town, cater-cornered to the garret apartment where I lived, was a big red brick house on Cape Cod Bay. A young woman, Bobbi, worked in that house as a cook and housekeeper for Norman Mailer. Bobbi lived in the ground floor apartment of the building I lived in and over the fall and winter months we became friends. | ||
“You should meet Norman,” Bobbi said to me one evening as we sat drinking wine and talking. “You guys would hit it off.” | “You should meet Norman,” Bobbi said to me one evening as we sat drinking wine and talking. “You guys would hit it off.” |