Today is the day to try a new shampoo.

At my day job, I have my own office with a door. And I must confess I love it. I can't think if I would have worked there by now if I had to have a cubicle in the hallway, which is the other option at my job.

Our whole suite is L-shaped, and my office is the last one on the short end. Which means that I share a wall with the office next door. This happens to be a plastic surgery clinic. And I admit, whenever I saw somebody walking in or walking out of there, I tried to check what they might be having done, and why.

There are some weird acoustics in my office. Half the floor is shared by residents, so every once in a while I'll hear a dog bark or a baby cry. But I have a much more interesting situation going on with the plastic surgery clinic.

I don't remember when it started but I remember being on the phone with someone, a complete stranger, saying "I'm sorry, hold on please: I think I hear someone screaming."

So it was quite unnerving. I have deduced that I share a wall with the plastic surgery clinic, possibly the recovery room.

Originally this was sort of funny until I was conducting a phone interview for an article and stopped paying attention to what what person on the other end of the phone was saying so I could hear the screams.

I called my boss, mostly because earlier in the year some construction was done in my office and I was allowed to work at home, so I hoped that I would be able to do the same for the screaming. She was concerned but recommended I go to the plastic surgery clinic to find out of there were certain days that the especially painful procedures were being performed so I could maybe stay away for the day.

The girl at the front desk was perfectly cast in her role as "Bitchy Girl at the Front Desk." She looked annoyed that I even opened the door to the office (probably because I need a nose job or something.) But when I asked her if there was some sort of schedule we could work out, she looked me in the face and denied that the clinic was the origin of the screams.

"So somebody else in the building is just screaming on a regular basis?" I asked. She shrugged bitchily. I was stymied and went back to my office in a huff.

The next day, like clockwork, the screaming started again. I decided to try a tack my boss recommended: acting like I was concerned for the screamer and just checking into make sure everything is OK.

"Yeah, we do procedures back there," said the receptionist, bitchily again. "There's nothing we can do." I didn't have it in me to point out that she had completely contradicted herself the day before.

I spoke with my boss and my HR woman and the most they could recommend was that I call building security the next time it happened, which was unsatisfying, but later resulted in some maintenance guys sticking some insulation in my wall. I was mollified by this and also with resolving never to hold the elevator door open for the receptionist should I see her.

Then, this week, it started again. And I don't know what the person on the other side of the wall had, but she must have had the works, as she screamed for a good hour, sometimes sobbing and whining, "It hurts, IT HURTS." I called security.

"I'm pretty sure it's the plastic surgery clinic in the suite next door," I said. "I believe you," said the woman on the phone. "But whenever we go over there they deny that it's them."

So, since then, I have resorted to what bad neighbors do when bad neighbors make noise: I pound on the wall. I figure that eventually some patient might say "Hey, is there somebody eavesdropping on me here?" and the office will be forced to insulate their room, or change recovery rooms.

There is a larger story here though. DO NOT GET PLASTIC SURGERY. Not because it's vain, or a waste of money, or dangerous. But because apparently, it really, really, really, really, really, really hurts. I probably can't say the name of the plastic surgery clinic since I can't absolutely prove that it is them (I'm just 98% sure.) But, if you're determined to go ahead with it, and you're in recovery from your lipo or your rhinoplasty or your boob job or what have you and you hear some pounding through the wall, maybe followed by the occasional exasperated "Oh my god!", then there is a good chance that is me. However if anybody comes by to ask, I'm just going to deny it.