Brandon Sutton stood in line for six hours — from 1:45 a.m. until 7:45 a.m. Friday — to secure a spot in the courtroom for Luigi Mangione’s trial.
“It was freezing cold, women were trying to cut in line,” Sutton, 49, of Brownsville, told The Post.
“There’s like a Ted Bundy effect on people,” he said, likening Mangione to the notorious 1970s serial killer.
But Sutton didn’t weather this morning’s frigid temperatures and pre-dawn darkness for his own sake.
As a professional line-sitter, Sutton, alongside two colleagues, Tim and Brian, sacrificed snugness and sleep for a Mangione-crazed female client.
The anonymous gal paid them $25 an hour to score her a prime spot in line for one of the Manhattan Supreme Court seats open to the public as Mangione, 26, is on trial for allegedly killing UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson on Dec. 4 outside of a Midtown hotel.
And access to the courtroom showdown is currently the hottest ticket in town.
Sutton and his coworkers, soldier-like staffers of Same Ole Line Dudes (SOLD), a Brooklyn-based brand offering line-sitting services across the boroughs, refused to reveal the identity of their client.
And, according to SOLD owner, Robert Samuel, his staff of over 40 pro-waiters never publicly name names — not even the bell-ringing names of their billionaire patrons.
With sealed lips and chattering teeth, the trio spent the wee hours of the day shivering among the expansive line of Mangione admirers.
He and his co-sitters secured the second slot in line. They were stationed behind an extreme devotee who beat out the experts for the first-place position. Just before 9:00 a.m., The Post witnessed their client come to claim her spot, relieving the dudes of their duties.
Flocks and flocks of female fans, all fawning over the detainee’s chiseled cheeks and steely stare, swarmed the courthouse in support of the man social media’s dubbed the “hot assassin.”
Some standing in solidarity with the alleged shooter wore maroon-colored tops — the same hue Mangione infamously sported during his arraignment late last year.
Others, however, opted for much more overt outerwear, proudly donning “Free Luigi” garb in protest of his pending imprisonment.
“It’s like they worship him,” said Sutton, referring to the gaggle of Mangione’s starry-eyed gals, some of whom have contributed charitable funds towards the $300,000 raised by zealots to cover his criminal defense fees.
But during the shift, the threesome tried not to eavesdrop on too much of the Mangione praise.
Turning a deaf ear to line chit-chat has become an occupational must for line-sitters like Sutton, who’s regularly tapped by Upper East Siders to stand in lines for high-end fashion sales or visiting foodies desperate for hard-to-get tables at new restaurants.
He even stood in line for 12 hours every day for a month during President Trump’s “hush money” trial in spring 2024.
“I try not to listen and I choose not to get into political arguments,” he said, adding, that there’s typically been a sense of camaraderie amongst the folks waiting in long lines.
For quick food or bathroom breaks, he either taps a fellow SOLD sitter to hold his spot in line or asks the strangers to his front and rear if they’d graciously allow him to step away for about 15 minutes.
“Working the Trump trial wasn’t too bad,” said Sutton, who earned a cool $7,000 for the lengthy gig. “I’m just glad I didn’t see the person set themselves on fire.”
Despite the drama and trauma that often comes with standing in some of NYC’s longest lines, the waiting whiz simply loves the gig.
“I’m serving the community in a very special way,” said Sutton. “I love seeing the smiles of satisfied clients.”
“And, with major course cases like [Mangione’s], I get to be a part of history.”