#99. Tiles, 1 St. Andrews Sq, Edinburgh

Tiles had three cask ales on tap, and I had a Braveheart from Houston Brewing. Houston continues to have a problem: they brew crap ale. Full marks for the obviously named Scottish product, however.



This pub has very high ceilings.



The excellent sound system gave the place almost a club vibe. The bar itself is situated in the center of a rectangular room; a configuration that works so well at the Abbotsford but somehow misses the mark here. Still, this place would be super popular back home in Victoria. Here, it's half-empty at 11pm on a Friday night. That was until a crew of kids came in on a themed crawl all dressed up as... Americans? Douchebags? They were in golf caps, shorts, and preppy tops. Here they are backing into my table and sticking their asses into my face.



They all chugged a Smirnoff Ice in unison. Loudly.



This was followed promptly by shots of tequila with a glass of white wine chaser. They licked the salt off their golf gloves; thankfully, body shots were reserved for another time. I did not stick around to find out if the goal was to induce vomiting or not. But before I made my exit I managed to take a picture of a guy taking a picture of this North American attention whore doing a semester abroad.



I love the look of indignation as she realizes I am taking her photo. How inconsiderate of me to invade her privacy like that. Good times.

UPDATE: I have since learned they were engaged in a game of Pub Golf.