Do public water fountains make you cringe? Do you push elevator buttons with your elbow, wipe down shopping cart handles, and keep a bottle of hand sanitizer in your pocket at all times?

If so, you are officially a Germaphobe. Welcome to the club.

We are a much-maligned minority. When we look around a room, we alone can see the tiny microbes plastered against every surface. While others will grudgingly admit that these tiny invaders exist, they are somehow able to live their lives as if they don’t. They touch the door handles of public bathrooms without fear. They shower at the gym, barefoot. They stabilize themselves when walking down subway steps by holding onto the railing…despite having read that doing so is equivalent to shaking hands with a thousand people at once.

We Germaphobes? We can’t escape that reality. We live with it every day, no matter what we’re doing.

Take air travel, for example. On a plane, my primary objective is to avoid having to visit one of the most offensive cesspools in existence: the aircraft’s lavatory. The “toilet plume,” made of aerosolized germs that shoot into the air every time a toilet is flushed, is confined to a tiny, closed area at the back of the plane. With barely any room to maneuver, there’s virtually no way for an authentic Germaphobe like myself to avoid touching the surfaces where the resulting germs come to rest.

If I book a flight in the middle of the day, I can sidestep the lavatory issue by staying away from beverages for a few hours, and then hydrating when I finally get to my destination. A bit uncomfortable, but doable. Early morning flights, however, come with an added challenge. How do I meet two needs that are both absolutely crucial and seemingly incompatible: sanitation and self-caffeination?

Enter my favorite Germaphobe hack. Instead of drinking my usual two cups of coffee, I self-caffeinate with an espresso.

A stroke of genius, I know.

But that’s not all. Irony of ironies, the lavatory is not the most unsanitary area on the plane. In fact, industrial hygienists have found that while microbes thrive on lavatory surfaces, they are even more abundant on the aircraft’s tray tables. Yes, the surfaces that they expect you to eat off of.

Next time you see your seatmate (who might just be Yours Truly) swabbing down a tray table with an antimicrobial wipe, remember that. Maybe you’ll be less inclined to roll your eyes.

Speaking of travel, it can lead to some challenging situations. While I know that some of my fellow Germaphobes avoid restaurants altogether, as a frequent traveler, I find restaurants to be a necessary evil. Yes, in my mind, restaurants are right up there with physicians’ offices and hospitals. (You can’t find a place more packed with germs than a medical waiting room!)

Of course, my grudging acceptance of eating out doesn’t mean that I’m willing to throw caution completely to the wind. Instead, I carefully choose both dining location and strategic timing to suit my germaphobic needs.

Let’s say my strategically-chosen location is Subway, home of the made-to-order sub and one of my favorite haunts. I eat there only during the restaurant’s peak hours, from 11:30 a.m. to 1 p.m., when the restaurant is usually fully staffed.

Why? During non-peak hours, a single employee typically serves a dual role: preparing sandwiches and collecting payment. Although all Subway employees are required to wear gloves while preparing food, the gloves used to prepare your sandwich may have just touched money or credit cards—two of the most contaminated items imaginable. You might as well just rub salmonella all over your freshly-made sandwich.

During peak hours, at least the gloves touching your sub are more likely to have been used exclusively for making subs, and nothing else. If sanitation protocols have been followed (and I agree, that’s a huge “if”), the chance of your sandwich harboring a colony of evil microbes is…well, at least somewhat lower.

Not only that, but the perils that lurk at a restaurant extend far beyond the food on your plate. After all, no meal is complete without a beverage, which has the potential to act as a public swimming pool for microbes and their spawn. (No, I refuse to get off on a tangent about public swimming pools. I’m convinced that they’re a global conspiracy, designed to force us to swim in toxic waste.)

Anyway, back to beverages. When a server places a glass of water in front of me, I watch very carefully to determine the exact placement of the server’s fingers. (Remember: Being a true Germaphobe requires focus and precision!) I have noticed that servers often place a glass on the table by holding the rim of the glass. It is as if they are testing me, intentionally planting germs right on the surface I am about to put to my lips.

To pass the test, I note precisely where the fingertips are as the glass descends to the tabletop. Then, I carefully turn the glass to where the fingers did not touch the rim. That sacred spot is where I place my mouth as I drink.

Now you, too, know how to pass their test as well. You’re welcome.

I’m sure that some of you think I’m taking this Germaphobe thing a bit overboard. I’ll have you know, though, that research is on my side. Did you know that…

• About a third of Americans do not wash their hands with soap after using a public restroom. Yes, that means that they are then spreading those microbes onto every surface that they subsequently touch.

• There are almost three million colony forming units (CFU) on every square inch of a classroom water fountain spigot. For comparison’s sake, a toilet seat holds only 3,200 CFU per square inch.

• The most contaminated surface in the bathroom isn’t the toilet; it’s actually your toothbrush holder. After all, microbes thrive in environments that are moist, dark, and infrequently cleaned—and toothbrush holders hit this trifecta perfectly.

• Almost three quarters of surveyed Americans admit to using their cell phones in the bathroom. With very little imagination, it is easy to imagine why many germaphobes prefer not to touch your phone, no matter how much you want to share your vacation photos with them.

Do you view yourself as a germaphobe? What idiosyncrasies do you have that other people think are excessive? Don’t be ashamed to share, you’re in good company.

My company, at the very least...