what if he was your father?

I work with this guy, he's a great, great guy. He's super funny, always happy, and he's a great friend. He is the only person from work that I hang out with outside of work. He doesn't try to make moves on me or anything, we call each other at 530 in the morning when we're hammered. He's a real gem.
Yesterday at work this middle aged man carrying half a 26er of Absolut tries to stumble his way into the Lawyer... he bumps into something and down he goes. He hits his head on this metal partition thing on the patio and he can't get up. His bottle of vodka smashed and spilled everywhere, and he's laying in the glass. He's a real fucking mess. Out of nowhere the cops arrive and dig their knees into his back, cuff him, and the man is cursing up a storm. By the way, it's totally 3:00 in the afternoon. He has succeeded in making an "Absolut" spectacle of himself (I couldn't resist that one).
My afore-mentioned friend comes running out of the restaurant and over to the cruiser window where he has some words with this drunken mess of a man. He turns around and he has tears in his eyes as he tries to reason with the police to just let him take his dad home.
His dad.
Everyone at work saw this guy fall in the glass, curse the cops out, resist arrest and just act like an all-around train wreck. And my poor friend had to face all of us. Some of the people at work were actually laughing at this man before they found out who he was. And after we learned, we were all sad for our co-worker. The guy who is always happy, always wants to hang out, loves playing guitar, has nothing bad to say about anybody, always makes everybody laugh... Everybody loves him. He's an amazing person.
And that's where he came from.

There's this plant that grows in Africa. If you care for the plant, water it and whatnot, it will surely die. If you leave it alone, and let it fend for itself, it grows into a beautiful flowery purple bushel.

Some of us flourish from neglect.