Infinitely Dinner Society just pulled off the first of what we hope will be many engagements. It came in the form of a “Midnight Snack,” sweetly delivered in the wee hours by a mysterious messenger.

Infinitely Dinner Society (IDS) popped up, as many of these experiences do, on Instagram about four weeks ago. It promised an intimate, multi-course dinner at a secret location in Hollywood. IDS would not be the first experience to blend immersive theater with food. Disco Dining Club has been pulling off lavish meals and parties in the name of indulgence, while Los Angeles Eats Itself themes meals around sensational Los Angeles events. (I attended a Heidi Fleiss-themed dinner last March.)

Two weeks ago, IDS posted that they were dealing with budget issues regarding their venue, but would be launching the amuse-bouche to their main course in the form of “Midnight Snacks.” The very first of these witching hour treats occurred early this morning. On Wednesday, IDS’ Instagram instructed those interested to enter an address near Hollywood where they would or could be between midnight and 2 a.m. It also stated that the snack would be a donut. So, I sent them an email with my address, which is just south of Hollywood in Koreatown. They then selected nine individuals and sent out a confirmation email that included what time they would arrive and instructions. If I wanted to confirm the snack, I was required to send a “donation” of $10. So, I did.

My time slot was 12:05 a.m. They texted me at 12:02 a.m. to say they had left a piece of sidewalk chalk outside the location I provided. (It warms my heart every time one of these things starts on time.) My instructions were to draw a circle with said chalk, step into the circle, and text them back. Outside, a piece of peach sidewalk chalk waited, as promised. Across the street, I could see three people all dressed in black. One of them was hula hooping. I drew a small circle, as instructed, and stepped inside before shooting off what seemed like a possibly redundant text. The street signal changed and one of the three people walked on by, clearly not part of the process. The hula hooper stayed put. The third individual, a woman in an apron and a shiny, pale green mask, approached. She placed a pair of wireless headphones on my head and, using a phone, played me a story.

The story was well-produced. A pleasant and articulate narrator spoke over elegant piano music. He began the story like this: “It had been a long night in an unfriendly part of town. Let me restate that: it was a long night in a part of town where people had friendly faces and unfriendly intents.” Hollywood? The man went on to say that in an attempt to “forget who he was,” he lost his wits, keys and phone. Yet he retained his wallet, and his wanderings led him to a hotel that declared there was always at least one vacancy. This hotel turned out to be Hilbert’s Hotel.

Hilbert’s Hotel is a paradox, as presented by mathematician David Hilbert in a 1924 lecture. Hilbert talked of a grand hotel that had an infinite number of rooms. When a new guest arrived, each current guest would shift down one room. The guest in room number one moved to room number two, and so on. The new guest would then check into room number one. If an infinite number of guests should arrive, each current guest then moves to whatever number is their room number times two. So the guest in room one moves to room two, but the guest in room two moves to room four. That means every odd-numbered room is available for the infinite number of guests in this infinitely large hotel. This all sounds infinitely annoying, but it’s a fun thought experiment.

In the story of the narrator’s visit to Hilbert’s Hotel, he is presented with a donut — a food that has no discernible beginning or end. The ouroboros of desserts. At that moment in the story, the masked woman handed me a donut in a paper bag. When the story finished, she took the headphones back and whispered, “Always. Forever.” She and her companion then walked off into the night, leaving the chalk behind. The entire experience lasted about five minutes. In the morning, the chalk was gone, but the circle remained. I presume someone else picked it up.

The donut itself was a simple glazed donut, the likes of which can be bought at any small donut shop or gas station. It was fresh and fluffy and likely cost less than a dollar. (As it turns out, at least one person was brought a pineapple ring to accommodate dietary restrictions.) Now, obviously, the cost of the donut itself is not relevant to the total price, as the extra $9.50 or so more than pays for the personal at-home delivery and a bedtime story.

Infinitely Dinner Society seems to have additional midnight snacks planned for June, including “Watermelon,” “Cheese Plate” and “Oyster Shooter.” To improve your chances of catching these fleeting engagements, follow IDS on Instagram via @infinitelydinnersociety.