At the corner of First and M streets, Northeast, a lunchtime crowd snakes down the sidewalk, with some waiting close to an hour for a hot dog. At the front stands a man in a black suit and red tie, handing out foil-wrapped franks from beneath a red-and-yellow umbrella that reads “SHYSTERS,” a nod to the term for unscrupulous lawyers. The cart is plastered with stickers declaring “The customer is always wrong” and “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
The guy behind the grill is Isaac Stein, an attorney for the IRS Chief Counsel’s Office, where he helps write the 401(k) rules that govern Americans’ retirement plans. When the federal government shut down, he launched the one-man hot dog stand built on the motto: “The only honest ripoff in D.C.”
A lawyer in a suit isn’t what most people expect to find behind a food cart, but that’s part of the gag. Stein’s minimalist menu lists two options: “The Correct Hot Dog” — a steamed wiener with spicy brown mustard and sauerkraut, no modifications — for $10 (or $17 for two); or “A Hot Dog with the Wrong Toppings” — ketchup, pickled onions, relish, you name it — for $11 (or $19 for two). “All prices include tax,” the menu notes. “And there’s no tip screen. I hate that garbage.”
“The menu, the branding, and everything, it’s all my attempt at comedy,” Stein says. “Everything is intended to make people laugh and smile.”
His love of connecting with people through food goes back to childhood. In seventh grade, he manned the food booth at a school event where teachers played a basketball game against a team that imitated the Harlem Globetrotters. “I had way more fun at the concession stand than I did watching the game,” Stein says. “Just connecting with people and hanging out was so much fun.”
In June, Stein took the first step toward bringing that same joy to the streets of DC: He ordered a hot dog cart, the first of many bureaucratic hurdles to getting licensed.
“I just had this artistic brew moment,” Stein recalls. “There was this thing in me, this expression that needed to come out. And so I decided that I was gonna not be afraid and just go for it.”
That same drive motivated Stein to push the cart three and a half miles (yes, you read that correctly) to the DMV vehicle inspection station one workday morning to begin the registration process. The DMV staff were “pretty stoked” he went to the effort.
Stein never expected the cart to become a full-time gig. His passion project was “70 percent a backyard art project,” something he planned to roll out on weekends. But when the federal government shut down on October 1, he had time to give the cart a proper debut.
Since Reuters ran a story on Shysters, Stein says he’s sold out every day. More than the sales, though, he’s been struck by the “outpouring of love and support.” As he squirts mustard onto a “correct” hot dog, a cyclist pedaling by slows down and shouts, “I saw you on the news!”
Between customers, Stein greets passersby and patrons alike with elbow bumps and the occasional hug. “I’ve been meeting tons of interesting people every day,” he says.
Even after the shutdown ends, Stein plans to keep working his hot-dog stand on Fridays and weekends. “I take work in both enterprises very seriously,” Stein says. “But this one’s definitely more people-oriented. If I can make one person laugh or smile, that makes me really happy.”
