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When I was still new at BuzzFeed — in early 2014 — our Los Angeles office was across the street from a row of art studios. One afternoon, word spread that Shia LaBeouf was supposedly across the street doing some kind of “performance art” thing. Naturally, half the office stopped working and ran over to check it out.

They returned saying there was a guy sitting in a room behind a table with a paper bag over his head. On another table near the entrance sat a collection of random objects — a whip, a feather, a basketball — and you were supposed to pick one, bring it into the room, and “interact” with the bagged figure. No one could confirm the bag head was indeed Shia LaBeouf, though, because he wasn’t speaking, just sitting there.

I figured someone had to get to the bottom of this, so I crossed the street and walked into the small white-walled room where a man in a suit was wearing a paper bag with eye holes. I sat across from him and said, “Hey, I hear you’re Shia LaBeouf in there. That true?” Nothing. No movement, no sound.

After a few failed attempts at conversation, I asked, “Would it be okay if I took the bag off your head, just to confirm it’s you?” Again, silence. I tried one more time: “I don’t want to invade your space — is it all right if I remove it?” And then…he gave the tiniest nod.

So, I walked around the table, took hold of the paper bag, and lifted it. It was Shia LaBeouf alright, looking up at me with tired, melancholy eyes.

“Oh,” I said, “it is you. Great.”

I went to put the bag back on, but the problem was… it wasn’t a big bag. It barely fit over his head, and as I tried to slide it down, it started to tear. Doh. 

“Oh God, sorry, Shia,” I said. “I think I’m ripping your bag.” I tried to fix it, but only ripped it even more as I finally got the bag back in place over his face. An awkward beat passed as I stood over Shia and the ripped bag on his face.

 “I really hope you have a backup bag somewhere,” I said sheepishly before hurrying out.

Shia LaBeouf did this for three days, and after those first few slow hours, the line to meet Shia stretched around the block. And, if you’re wondering, I heard he did have a backup bag.