‘There is an illusion of chaos about the world and, though this writer’s experiences are isolated to a relatively thin realm, he can say for certain that very little of what happens on the ‘Wayside’ should be taken at face value, particularly in regards to patterned behavior. Having realized this independently, a woman known only by her internet handle, Rozzalind_420, managed to discover something new and, like most non-male innovators, she has been made to regret it. In publishing her discovery, the author hopes to take on a modicum of that suffering (though no man ever saved a witch by jumping on the pyre).
Rozzalind’s unspecified work involved relatively constant travel and, initially in jest, she created a blog in which she eloquently reviewed highway rest stops and rated them based on location, cleanliness, and ‘overall ambience.’ Rozzalind became a minor internet celebrity when a particularly damning review of a stop outside El Paso went viral, resulting in an investigation by the CDC and a state-issued apology.
The attention initially seemed to have almost no effect on the blog itself, which continued to churn out weekly or bi-weekly reviews. Critics suggested much of the writing was likely faked as Rozzalind seemed able to cover vast distances in relatively little time and would not describe what sort of job would have her so consistently on the road. She eventually admitted that posts were published out of order to avoid being easily followed and to keep the site active even when she was ‘working from the office.’ When these reasonable explanations failed to silence her ‘fans,’ Rozzalind disabled comments on the posts and went about business as usual.
Cut off from the world, Rozzalind’s sanity seemed to quickly decline. Her old rating system was supplemented by an increasingly complex ‘checklist’ of features that, to most, seemed relatively neutral in the grander scheme of things. At times, this checklist included things like ‘creaking door on stalls,’ ‘floor drain situated as to be viewable from toilet,’ ‘toilet paper installed to unravel in clockwise fashion (facing visitor),’ and ‘handprint on mirror.’ More to the point, the checklist was the first indication of ‘The Persistent Knocker.’
Rozzalind first noted ‘The Persistent Knocker’ in a series of posts on Mid-west toilets, describing the phenomenon of a person that enters a restroom and attempts to open a stall (normal behavior) and, finding it locked, tries at least once more (unnatural behavior, according to Rozzalind). She later began associating ‘The Knocker’ with, what many would assume, were phone numbers scrawled across (or carved into) the stalls but which she correctly deduced was a sort of cant left by ‘The Persistent Knocker’ that arrived when the stall was unoccupied.
Her audience having mostly jumped-ship, the public discovery of ‘Rozzalind Rooms’ would have remained muted if not for a sudden, panicked outcry by lurking members of several Rozzalind-adjacent forums and chatrooms hoping to find a quick means by which to contact her. Those who thought to re-visit the blog to see what all the fuss was about found the last post Rozzalind would ever publish: a short video of a masked woman (thought by most to be Rozzalind herself), slamming her body over and over into a locked stall until the door gives way, revealing a second door and, beyond that, a hidden bathroom.
‘Rozzalind Rooms’ are estimated to exist in at least 20% of American rest stops, always behind seemingly-locked stalls (built with an angled latch that slides up the door with each successive push and falls back into place under no pressure). Their historic exclusivity meant that they remained cleaner and quieter than traditional toilets, though accessing them bred the rest stop pest Rozzalind once dubbed ‘The Persistent Knocker.’ Rozzalind’s last post put a quick end to the secrecy and inspired a new generation of meddling vloggers, upsetting an ecosystem that had remained balanced for decades. Those clued in to ‘Rozzalind Rooms’ previous to the blog resent both the name and the loss of their roadside sanctuaries and Rozzalind, once well-respected for her work toward rest stop transparency, is now widely condemned for it.
The true condemnation belongs to the architect of this predator/prey duality who has instilled, in the traveler, a craving for privacy and an excuse to take it from others. Ghosts are harder to catch than witches, however, and they don’t burn nearly as bright.‘
-excerpt, Autumn by the Wayside
