Once I woke up to find a woman’s lips on mine. Not  just any woman, Ms. Weregun, my strange upstairs neighbor. I guess I left a back door open, a door that opened directly into the laundry room that I shared with Ms. Weregun. She found it to be an invitation to walk in and plant her wormy lips on mine. “Ah you liked it,” she said.  “You would have liked it better if you woke up to me blowing you. A handsome woman twice your age, you’d be lucky to pound me.” Ms. Weregun left, and I immediately knocked on the door of another neighbor, Katie Bristol, a rower and student at the University of Chicago. She was pale, and pretty. I told…