Once, I and a friend of ours blindfolded BJ and drove him somewhere deep in Fairfax County, the end of some generic cul-de-sac inside a nest of twisting cul-de-sacs. We set him in a car, madde him wait a few minutes for us to drive off, and then let him find his way back to a bar in Hendon. If he made it back in one hour, we'd buy his beers that night; if not, he was buying. The friend and I drove back in my car, excited about the contest, feling pretty good about the confusing place we dropped him. I parked in a lot across from the bar, and as we walked toward the entrance, guess who was standing there waiting for us.

His whole thing is zoning, land use. A master's in urban planning. [...]