Despite its performance capabilities, the LP560-4 is no more difficult to drive than a normal car - with one exception: the brake pedal is so grabby that anything but the slightest touch will launch the pizza, pepperoni-first, into the leather-covered dashboard. The transmission never threatens to toss the pie, though - the latest version of Lamborghini's E-gear is, in my opinion, the best single-clutch automated gearbox on the road. Part-throttle shifts are smoother than some conventional automatics', and full-bore upshifts are stupid fast. Taking off slowly up a hill - one of the biggest challenges for this type of transmission - is smooth, natural, and accompanied by no backward rolling and no clutch smoke.
The 5.2-liter V-10 has huge low-end torque, so you don't need lots of revs in normal driving, and the exhaust is reasonably quiet, as long as you don't dip into the throttle too deeply. Which I don't, mostly to ensure that the Domino's sign doesn't go flying into a ditch - a paint-scraping, plastic-smashing catastrophe that would surely get me fired from both of my jobs. The nav guides me perfectly to my destination, a narrow and steep driveway crowded by overgrown brush on both sides and covered with accidental speed bumps created by roots lifting the asphalt. I press a small button on the center console that raises the front end to clear curbs and proceed slowly up the hill without incident. If the Lambo can make it up this driveway, it can make it up almost any.
At the top, I position the white Gallardo so that the deliveree can't possibly miss it. The rear-three-quarter view of the LP560-4's stunning LED flux-capacitor taillights and the illuminated Domino's sign could rouse a legally blind coma victim, I think as I ring the bell. The door opens almost instantly, and I'm greeted by a woman in her eighties who is grinning from ear to ear. Not because of the Lamborghini - because her dinner has arrived. She experiences full-blown, pizza-induced tunnel vision as she hands me $30 in cash (which includes a generous $6.75 tip), yanks the cardboard box out of my hand, thanks me, and shuts the door in my face.
When I return to the Domino's parking lot, I'm greeted by several other delivery guys. Apparently, my cover was blown by a semihysterical caller who said he saw a white Lamborghini with a Domino's sign on it pulling out of the parking lot. He wanted to know if he could get his dinner delivered by Gallardo as well. Whoops. While everyone ogles the machinery, another driver returns with a solemn look on his face. He accidentally backed into an urn while turning around in a customer's driveway. I inform him that he shouldn't have cheaped out in the first place. He could have saved the $100 it cost him to replace the landscaping accessory if he had simply bought a Gallardo with a backup camera. I'm not making any friends.