On par with being a hat prisoner albeit with a comb over you can get away with attending formal activities without the thought of exposing yourself.
What I hatesd most aside from the wind when sporting a comb over was getting intimate with women, always being on guard and careful with how I initiate, and escalate for the safety of my own hair. Couldn't just jump into what I wanted because I was always thinking about potentially exposing myself.
What a horrible way to live, and the same feeling can be noted when I was also a hat prisoner. A protective barrier, and barricade to anything you do.
it's better just to buzz it or sport a short ceaser thats faded on the sides then repeat that garbage life style. Always hiding, and limiting yourself in life.
What pisses me off the most is I oppressed from myself from getting into relationships with women due to pride and not wanting to expose my genetics for what they relay are. Counting off more then a handful easily of women I had gotten romantic with that never went anywhere because of this ridden disease. From 18-22 years old I gave it all away.
realy is a sad disease, and I can only sympathisze for those who were more advanced then I was. Literally over night I became a NW3 at 17-18. Had people telling me I had a receding hairline at 16. (nw2)