A Hole in the Hat

I pricked up my ears at a conversation between a couple in the hotel bar this morning: "So," the girl was saying, "Will you have to get a new heart?" "Naw, This one should last a bit longer." There was an awkward silence before the girl spoke again: "Well it's up to you, but if I had a hole that size in my heart I'd want to get a new one pretty quick." Two or three other tourists were taking an interest now - this isn't the sort of thing you normally hear over drinks in an Ozzie bar. The girl spoke again: "Well don't come running to me if you get sunstroke" There followed a delay while my brain untangled this new information, and then I had an almost uncontrollable urge to swivel my chair around and scream at them: "HAT! he's got a hole in his HAT!" But of course I didn't, because I'm British and we like to maintain our stiff upper lip. So instead I ordered a Martini - shaken not stirred - balanced the enormous floppy hat back on my head and headed out to develop a melanoma on the beach...