I eyed the circle of people arcing out from my left and right hands warily. I'd never been to a meeting like this before and, like so many would be, I was nervous. I'm supposed to be a good public speaker, but as any band or entertainer will tell you, it's the small audiences that are the hardest.
The group leader, a kindly looking man clad in a tweed jacket and surveying the world through neat dark-rimmed glasses, stood and smiled briefly at me before saying a few words. "Good evening everyone..." he said. His accent was local but is cadence and intonation had a soothing, Carl-Sagan-like quality. It helped to put me a little at ease. "Welcome to our first meeting of the year. We have a new member tonight..." At this he gently extended a hand, palm up, to point me out. "Neil, would you tell us a little about why you've come here tonight?"
I cleared my throat, shuffled a little in my seat and finally stood up. No way of getting out of it now...
"Hi. My name is Neil..."
"Hi Neil" said the group, 12 strong, in unison. It should have been intimidating but their friendly voices gave me encouragement.
"Hi, my name is Neil and... and... and I'm addicted to turbocharged engines."
A brief smattering of applause and a couple of people say "well done." I sat back down and the group leader smiled at me, his face still kindly, and said "thank you for saying that Neil. Won't you tell us a little more?"
"Sure. Well, I've been driving mostly turbo engines now for a while. The occasional naturally-aspirated one slips in there from time to time, but you know how it goes." Nods. "But I've had a couple of experiences lately, and they've really turned me on to turbos. Like, I've started to think that they're actually the only way to go now."
The circle of faces is making encouraging noises again, and the group leader throws in a question. "This isn't something that happened recently then, is it Neil?"
"No. I think I've known for a while. I mean, I know the whole argument about natural aspiration, which gives you sharper, purer throttle response and better exhaust notes. I know that, I really do. But I just can't help thinking that a turbo just makes everything easier, you know?"
"I mean, there I was, I guess three or so years ago, driving a Renaultsport Clio - you know, the one with the last of the big 2.0-litre engines, no turbo? Yeah, so this is supposed to be the ultimate, right? The paragon of natural aspiration, of purity. And I was just... bored. I kept waiting for it to deliver and it just wouldn't. You had to rev the nuts off it to go anywhere and it was just... hard work. Really hard."
More nods from everyone.
The group leader again: "and am I right in saying that some recent events have made you fully convert?"
My turn to nod now. "Yeah. I had a chance to drive a couple of Aston Martins, just for an afternoon, so I knew I could give it up any time I liked, right? A Rapide and a Vanquish, so they both had the 6.0-litre engine, the V12, no turbos." A lady on my right looks askance at this and fans herself briefly with a self-help brochure. "And it was good, I mean real good, you know? The noise, the performance, the smoothness. It was great and I started to think that maybe I could leave turbos behind again, to go back to atmospheric pressure." Some more shocked faces and some mumbles of "the poor child." The leader softly raises a hand for quiet and then gives me my last cue. "But then something happened, didn't it?"
I swallow deep now and aim for my conclusion. "Yes. I was on holiday, in Spain. Near Madrid. Up in the mountains and I hired a car. It was a nice one, a Toyota Auris. Nothing exciting I know, but it was comfy and the kids had lots of room in the back, so you know... Anyway, as I'm leaving the rental car desk, the woman handling my payment says to me 'oh, by the way, it's a 1.6-litre petrol.' You know, like it's no big deal."
"So I just go, sure, why not? Nothing to see here, right? It'll be fine. It'll be... fine."
The leader surveys me carefully, a hint of steel in his eyes now. "But it wasn't fine, was it Neil?"
The floor in front of my toes is what holds my gaze now. I have to admit how wrong I was to turn my back on turbos. "No, it wasn't fine, not fine at all. It was gutless, there was no mid-range, I had to rev to, like, 5,000rpm and I even had to..." A hesitation, a final stumble before the awful truth. "I even had to change down to fourth going up motorway inclines."
A round of soft applause covers the sound of me choking back a gentle sob. The nightmare is over and the warm embrace of the group lifts my spirits. The leader has a few final words to say.
"Our brother Neil has looked into the abyss of natural aspiration, my friends, and found it unnatural. Truly, he has come back to the manifold embrace of turbocharging. As have most car makers, and let us be thankful for that. Few, if any, have naturally aspirated engines left on sale, and this is a good thing. We have nothing to fear from low redlines - just sit back and feel the torque and the reduced emissions ratings."
He clapped his hands together, gently as ever, to bring all our attention to the centre of the circle. "Now, before we leave again, let us say together the words of the turbocharger's prayer..."
"Our turbo, which art in manifold,
Boosting be thy name.
They impeller spin,
Thy racetrack win,
In Le Mans
As it is in Sebring
And lead us not into natural aspiration,
As we forgive those who naturally aspirate against us,
But deliver us from off-boost.
For thine is the fan-blade,
The housing and the intercooler,
For pressure and back-pressure,
No lag."