The Cobalt.

No, not THIS cobalt:

THIS Cobalt:

Not STRICTLY that one, but close enough. :-)

Our local (slightly smaller) dealer had a yellow Cobalt LS XFE 2-door a while back. Since I'm a fan of the traditional manual transmission, and will almost never pass up the chance to use one, and I knew the XFE had a very high take rate for the manual, I decided to have a look. Sure enough, it was standard!

So, I got in. Now, the handbrake for those cars is actually behind the driver, and to see it you have to be looking for it. I didn't notice that the handbrake was off in this particular example. I put the clutch in (if you have a mechanical inclination, you can see where this is going), and rowed through the gears. Pleasantly surprised by the clarity of the transmission and the overall not-so-nastiness of the interior (I had been led to believe by reviews that the interior was able to cause mirrors to break if you had one inside the vehicle), I stuck it in neutral and leaned back in the seat to ponder the possibility that I had been misled all my life by the automotive press.

Soon, I experienced a very unfamiliar sensation. You know how typically, when a car is moving, the engine is running, the car is in gear, and your foot is on the throttle? None of those things applied here, and yet I felt that the car was... moving. 

I looked over the hood. 

I had moved forward.

Without wanting to.

Normally, that wouldn't be such a bad thing, except this particular vehicle was parked on an incline. Facing the street. Which, at that time, was quite busy.

Did I mention that the Cobalt didn't get such great side-impact crash test scores? I was about to find out firsthand just how realistic those tests were.

Suddenly, I felt myself slamming on the brake and clutch pedals simultaneously, putting the car in reverse, and yanking the handbrake up. My heart just about leapt out of my chest, and I sat there, shaking. (I left the clutch in, which was rather foolish sense that meant my putting the car in gear was worthless)

A couple of salesmen and my mom ran over to investigate Christine's great-grandson having manifested his ancestry for the first time, while I kept my emotions bottled up until they opened the driver's door.

"THE HANDBRAKE WASN'T ON! THE HANDBRAKE WASN'T ON!"

I was persuaded after about 30 seconds to let off the brake and clutch, which caused the car to jerk forward and my heart to skip another couple beats. Finally, I trusted the car to the parking brake and shakily climbed out.

Of course, the car was on the sidewalk now, so I joined the sales guys in pushing it back up, during which time they accidentally got the door stuck open from banging it against a telephone pole. After that, one of the sales guys had the audacity to say "Good car, though."

That did not please me, and I didn't calm down for quite a while afterward, even after finding out that a car I had previously taken to be an MGB was, in fact, an Alfa Romeo Spider.

As a result of this event, I always check the parking brakes in vehicles I sit in.

The multiple morals of the story?

1: Most of the time, you drive the car. This Cobalt was evidently an import from Soviet Russia, because it drove me.

2: Sometimes, the dealership will do ANYTHING to get your attention squarely on the car.

3: Always check the parking brake. Always.

4: When the automotive press tells you a car is lousy, they're usually right.

That's it for me. Has anyone else had just dandy experiences with brakes and the lack thereof?