Lamborghini ride teases driver's need for speed

By AMY ABBOTT

© St. Petersburg Times, published November 4, 2000

Five-speed manual transmission, V-12 engine, 550 horsepower, 0 to 60 in 3.9 seconds. I wasn't in my Jetta anymore.

This was one of 60 new Lamborghinis to be imported to the United States, and I was in heaven.

The 11th Annual Tampa Bay International Auto Show is in town at the Tampa Convention Center through Sunday, and I was going on a joy ride in a 2001 Lamborghini Diablo VT 6.0. royal blue, to be exact.

You don't have to be a car buff to know Lamborghini is the shining symbol of all an exotic sports car should be. It's sleek, powerful and envied by all, including me.

Being an educated fool when it comes to cars, I jumped at the chance to be whisked about town in a $300,000 boy-toy. (Besides, it would be a great story to make my brother jealous.)

When I showed up, the Lamborghini was fashionably late. In the meantime, John Costello of Ferrari of Central Florida was gracious enough to take me for a spin in a 1997 Ferrari Spider, a beautiful, cherry red work of art, this baby had brains and brawn. The 350 hp was handy to merge into traffic, but its tight suspension was not intended for downtown Tampa with its brick streets and plentiful potholes.

When we returned, three jewels of automotive excellence were lined up end to end. Yellow, royal blue and silver. The silver 1999 was striking, but the 2001 was cutting edge; hence, the obvious choice. I also needed pictures to send to my brother.

Kurt Osterman of Ultimate Motor Works was to be my driver. He graciously opened the door, not so much because he was a gentleman, but because I didn't know how.

The leather seats cradled me like a posh chaise longue, and I could feel the rumbling engine roaring to be let loose. The sound washed over me, intonating the insane power this monster possessed. And we weren't out of the parking space.

The passenger compartment was arranged in classic style with modern conveniences. A 6-inch digital monitor slid out of the dash so we could see the view out the back. Good call on Lamborghini's part since the mirrors did little more than visually balance the exterior.

We slid out of the parking space and hung a right to Harbour Island. My stomach clenched when I saw the speed bumps looming ahead and immediately felt stupid for choosing this route. Amazingly, the car glided over them without ripping off the undercarriage, and I realized why people who own this car only put on about 3,000 miles a year.

They're paranoid.

We finally hit a straight, flat area, and Osterman tested the 0-to-60 time by stomping on the accelerator. The car was now the space shuttle, and we were taking off. My heart jumped and adrenaline flooded my senses.

Pure bliss.

Sadly, the ride ended, and I contorted my body to get out. There is no graceful way to get out of a Lamborghini.

With a whimper, I got back into my Jetta and realized how spoiled a brat I was being. My new Jetta is cute, peppy and gets good gas mileage. I wasn't going to fall victim to my greedy fantasies.

But I got my film developed in one hour, just to give myself the proverbial pinch to make sure I wasn't dreaming ... and to send my brother the doubles.

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