Way back when, back during my army days, I had this buddy named Leigh. Leigh was a quiet sort. Never saying much, he looked like your typical nice guy – baby-faced, specktacled, unassuming; your standard high-IQ, University educated, reservist Infantry grunt. Until he opened his mouth, that is. Leigh had himself a razored tongue, a sharp wit, and a of sense of humour which bespoke an acute awareness of the world. We used to almost-salute one another whenever we passed in the hallway, a joke at the expense of those who’d chosen bars over chevrons, and for a while there...
As I Walk These Broken Roads
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The Broken Relationships of Star Trek: The Next Generation 38:51
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