I Tried A Las Vegas Pizza Vending Machine So You Don’t Have To

How can you truly know if you dislike something without giving it a try?

That’s my motto in life. See, I’m an experience junkie. I like trying things. Yes, critical thinking and trusting your gut are important. But sometimes raw curiosity simply takes over. You just gotta ignore your better instincts and give it a shot.

That’s exactly what I did when I tried pizza out of a vending machine in the back hallway of a Las Vegas casino.

I’m in Vegas for a conference called the Affiliate West Summit. It’s an important conference for what we do at BroBible. I get some important one-on-one face time with the many agencies and advertisers we work with. Partnership ideas get discussed. Business gets done. Hands shake. It’s a win-win.

To save money this year, I stayed at the Linq, a budget-friendly option at $21 a night compared to the Cosmopolitan or Wynn. Don’t get me wrong, I love the grandest of the grand Vegas hotels and all their bathrobes and creature comforts, but I pride myself on being a thrifty entrepreneur who sees no need to splurge on a room only meant for sleep and laptop time. This is a business trip, after all.

In the back hallway of the Linq, by the entrance to the parking garage, there are two pizza vending machines. They’ve been teasing me every time I go to my room on this trip, strategically situated right there by the elevator bank, near a cake vending machine.

It’s called Buddy Valastro’s hot pizza vending machine and features all these bright video graphics of pepperoni squares steaming out an oven. It’s a futuristic, mind-boggling contraption that even says “hot pizza” in a bright neon green graphic, just like your favorite neighborhood slice place would. You can’t miss it. Then your brain starts glitching out and you can’t help but think… “holy cow, pizza in a vending machine?!”

I know pizza vending machines probably existed for ages, maybe even in Japan for decades. But it’s impossible to not be hypnotized by this machine. After all, it’s pizza – the one food that everyone almost universally likes, available as a snack at all hours of the day.

I know what you’re thinking: Brandon, why didn’t you trust your gut? Look, curiosity got the better of me when the pizzeria closed early one evening. I was ready for a snack after returning to my room from a solid convention mixer at Top Golf. Having already tried Buddy Valastro’s tasty (albeit egregiously overpriced) $10 cheese slice from his actual pizzeria in The Linq, I decided to give the vending machine version a whirl. I couldn’t resist. I knew it was a bad decision. Despite “hell no” votes in an Instagram poll from my fiancée and friend Pete, a Brooklynite with strong pizza convictions, I decided to give it a shot. I wanted to experience the novelty.

I swiped my card and paid $10 for a pizza. My expectations were already low, but the result was even more laughably worse than anticipated.

In my Instagram video review, I claimed the pizza was “not bad, but not good.” However, upon further reflection, I’m sort of repulsed by the stale, lukewarm rectangle that emerged from the machine.

It was just… depressing.

Somehow the outside was lava hot yet the inside was cold. The zesty sauce from my previous pizza experience was nowhere to be found. The mozzarella cheese was a sad blob staring at me, almost like a scared puppy dog’s eyes when crying for help. After two bites, I couldn’t stomach anymore.

A group of women observed me order the pizza out of the pizza vending machine and attempt to eat it, their laughter confirming what I already knew: I was the sucker. Me, the idiot. The pizza vending machine wasn’t there for late-night munchies or a quick, convenient bite between events in the convention center; it was an American capitalism trap designed to extract money through mediocre experiences and technological wizardry – all without any human interaction.

I can’t stop thinking about how Buddy Valastro’s pizza vending machine epitomizes American capitalism. The technology’s novelty and ingenuity are easy to romanticize, but the human experience on the receiving end is far from satisfying. Yet he still won. I’m the real loser here. Buddy Valastro, The Linq, and the business minds behind the pizza vending machine get to laugh all the way to the bank. That’s just how the game works.

As a society, we crave automation and efficiency above all else, often at the expense of human capital. The pizza vending machine serves as a fitting metaphor for how joy is being drained from the truly human, wonderful experiences that make our existence so damn special. It’s reminiscent of AI-generated content – bland, unsatisfying, and generally “meh.” Unlike junk food, which can be a guilty pleasure, the pizza spewed out by this machine didn’t deliver any enjoyment, besides some easy social media likes from my circle and general repulsion.

All I felt was guilt for throwing $10 away just to make an Instagram Reel. It was an ROI negative investment in my sad existence as a pathetic clout chaser.

You’d think with all our fancy AI and gadgets, we’d be living in the best time ever. Maybe we are! There have been incredible breakthroughs in health care. We can fly anywhere on planet earth in a day! We don’t even have to put our parking garage ticket in the machine on the way out anymore – a license plate reader lifts the gate for us without having to take our hands off the wheel. That’s progress!

There are some awesome things about being connected and having access to cool tech. Everything is convenient, everything is frictionless.

But, a lot of times, it’s just a gimmick – like a cheap trick at a carnival.

The Jetsons-esque techno future we were romanticized is just overpriced pizza in a vending machine that makes us go “meh” and feel ripped off before we call it night and head back to our rooms.

Lesson learned: don’t get sucked into the hype of it all. Capitalism’s a game, so play smart and don’t fall for the traps. Go to an actual pizzeria where humans toss the dough and pull it out of the oven with a peel the next time you want a slice before bed. There are plenty of great spots still all over The Strip, if you know where to look.

Approach the carnival, not a rigged game booth, and casually surrender, one and all.