The Problem with Cows

I've never seen a purple cow.
I never hope to see one.
But, I can tell you anyhow;
I'd rather see, than be one!

A few years ago, I started performing a little skit. It was meant to be done at a church talent show, but the event was overbooked, and I was too nervous to do it anyway. But I'd worked so hard to get it memorized, that I wanted, needed, to do it for some people. My friends let me subject them to my performance not knowing what they were in store for. Though I messed up a little, it was a resounding success. Or perhaps it has turned out to be a disaster. Not a real disaster, but a "Ha ha, the joke's on you!" kind of thing. It was a success, because everyone loved it. It has proven to be disasterous because...everyone loved it. They wanted me to do it again. They wanted me to do it when they introduced me to new people. They wanted me to do it at parties. I didn't want to be known as the 'cow' guy. So I refused. And when my friends' requests became fervent, so did my refusals. But every once in awhile I would pull it out again. One, because it is a fun skit. And two, because I now have it memorized, so it's easy. But every time, the cycle begins anew. Everyone loves it, so they all want me to do it again. Or they tell people about it who weren't there for the performance. That is the worst. Knowing that it has been hyped up for these people, knowing there is no margin for error. I don't do it at the drop of a hat, but somehow I let myself be talked into doing it again, if only for special occassions. Why don't I learn?