Borough commander obsessed with barriers receives treatment for OCD
MIDTOWN EAST – Early this morning, a borough commander famously obsessed with barriers has voluntarily checked in to a clinic in Malibu, where he will receive psychological treatment to cure his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), The Hairbag has learned.
The commander, Chief Wilbur Moraney, was often seen at details with a laser-level to ensure the proper alignment of barriers, which he affectionately referred to as, “My steel babies.”
We caught up with a group of cops at a local Dunkin’ Donuts, who over the years had crossed paths with Moraney. One officer informed us that he lost five days over a command discipline because he hadn’t properly aligned the barriers at the St. Patrick’s Day parade.
“I was there at six in the morning, doing my job as best I could. I thought I had done okay. That was until the chief and his entourage walked past my post, appearing as if they were walking into battle.”
The officer continued. “Then, the chief got on all fours and spent a good ten minutes examining the alignment, as his assistant, a first-grade detective, held his legs up like a wheelbarrow. Turns out it was .05 centimeters off the curb, so he gave me a hit,” the cop angrily shouted.
Another uniformed member, a Deputy Inspector, told us he ended up losing his command because Maroney felt the barriers which made up a viewing pen at the New Year’s Eve detail simply weren’t up to par. “Here I was, a grown man. I had taken 3 tests, ran a busy command, and led scores of investigators in the Detective Bureau,” he said.
“But for that fleeting moment on West 42nd Street, I was being berated by a chief who screamed that the barriers should be in the shape of an obtuse triangle, not a rectangle. It was emasculating!” the Deputy Inspector continued.
By mid-afternoon, scores of cops had lined up to share their experiences over burnt and inconsistent coffee. “No human being should be subjected to this sort of treatment”, said another cop, wiping away a lone tear from his cheek.
He recalled a detail where he went over the radio without giving his post number. “I didn’t mean to say ‘detail portable’, it was just a busy day. I hadn’t done it on purpose. I just needed a bus for an elderly veteran double-amputee stroke victim. But it didn’t matter. Moraney’s henchmen commandeered the frequency, demanding to know my location and asking for time checks. By the time the air was cleared, the old man was DOA.”
That evening, our reporters took the first flight to Malibu to meet with Chief Moraney, who shockingly agreed to grant us an interview on the condition we would tell his side of the story.
“I need these cops to know I’m sorry. It wasn’t a choice. I was sick, ill with a condition I had no control over,” said an apologetic Moraney, sporting hospital slippers and a onesie with “Chief” embroidered on the left side.
When asked why he decided to now seek professional help after all these years, he told us the decision was easy. ”I had been home on my RDO, reading my favorite book, ‘Morale Destruction for the Modern Police Executive’, when I just blacked out.
Before I knew it, my wife came home and caught me in bed with a barrier. That’s when I knew I had a problem”, he told us with a clear look of disgust on his face.
“And it wasn’t one of those sleek, sexy metal barriers, either. It was one of those nasty, trashy, old wooden ones from the Dinkins administration. You know, the type you find at last call after you’ve had one too many. I’m still dealing with the aftermath from splinters,” Moraney continued.
The interview was cut short, as a team of orderly’s scooped in and removed him via straight jacket. As we departed, we heard only faint mumbles from the hallway. “Line em’ up, line em’ up! What’s your post number! Time check forthwith! You can’t be on your bosses roster! Line…them….up!”.
Upon our return, The Hairbag was told that Moraney had responded well to treatment, and would be returning back to New York City the following week.
It’s unclear whether he will continue to run details, or be moved to another position.