Cliques : A Simplex Solution

The herpes outbreak in the late ‘70s threw the country into a frenzy--here was a sex-related disease that not only hurt, but it was ugly, incurable and stigmatizing. It seemed impossible to imagine anything worse. Now, of course, we know better. But herpes is still pretty bad, and it’s still very much around.

Though its symptoms are now largely controllable with the antiviral drug acyclovir, the stigma remains. For the thousands of Southern Californians carrying that little lifetime cellmate, there’s a support group, L.A. Help. Its meetings, hotline and newsletter, offer comfort to herpes sufferers.

“This is a place to come to heal, to realize you’re the same person you were before, only now you have herpes,” says Nancy, the group leaders. “If you act like a social leper, you’re part of the problem.”

At one meeting earlier this year at a United Methodist Church in Westwood, participants ranged from newly infected (and weepy) Emily (no real names, please), 20, to white-haired Max, 75, who introduced himself with “I jog, I swim and I have herpes.” More typical is Stan, 45, who contracted the virus in the freewheeling ‘70s while living with three female roommates. But Ingrid’s story sparks the most cries of recognition: Hew new boyfriend dumped her when she told him she had herpes.

That’s the hot herpes issue: How to break the news to your new love. Numerous tracts on the front table offer tips on when (not after sex or in a restaurant, for example) and why (you can get sued for giving someone herpes.)

But at L.A. Help, the news is already broken, and by intermission, everyone is laughing, joking and flirting. “People come for medical advice, emotional support and -- let’s get real -- for the dating pool,” Nancy says.

Wendy, a TV technician, admits that she’s at the meeting looking for someone cool. But “just having herpes isn’t enough,” she says. “It’s good for about one date. If he’s a jerk, he’s still a jerk.”