I think that there is a strange amount of satisfaction that can be obtained by watching your significant other experience the pain you endure to try to make yourself look nicer. I recently have been testing out this "Nightmare Machine" or as everyone else calls it an Epilator, and he came in to see what the weird noise was.
Garcon: What the heck is that?
Me: Oh Just the nightmare machine.
G: What is it doing?
Me: uhh essentially using a billion tiny tweezers to pull out all my leg hair.
G: Gross why?
Me: Because shaving every two days is a hassle and I have been informed that this lasts longer. However it hurts.
G: Can't be that bad. *Steals it from my hands and examines*
Me: Fine you try it on your arm
G: *Goes with hair so nothing pulls out*
Me: Other way *pushes it up against grain*
G: *Terror slowly creeps across his face* WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME
Me: I am not even touching it!
G: Not nice. *hands it back to me walks away pouting*
I still had a leg and a half to do still. It sucks sometimes trying to be less hairy. I mean, most of the tim I don't care because I am not trying to impress anyone, however it is summer and I don't really love having gross hairs poking out everywhere... but there is something a little bit fun about watching a man experience pain that they don't even have to consider at all.