On the bustling sidewalks of Washington, D.C., amid the hum of Metro trains and the shuffle of government workers, a scene both whimsical and poignant has unfolded since early October 2025. Isaac Stein, a 31-year-old attorney for the Internal Revenue Service (IRS), has traded his office desk and tax code for a hot dog cart—at least, for now. Thanks to the ongoing federal government shutdown, Stein’s daily reality has shifted from drafting retirement plan regulations in a quiet office to serving up steamed hot dogs, Moon Pies, and RC Cola to a diverse cross-section of the city’s residents.
Stein’s cart, cheekily named SHYSTERS, bills itself as “The Only Honest Ripoff in D.C.” The name—a tongue-in-cheek reference to the term for unscrupulous lawyers—captures the playful spirit of the venture. But for Stein, this isn’t just a lark or a way to pass the time during furlough. As Reuters reports, the hot dog stand is the realization of a childhood dream that began when he was just 12 years old, manning a concession stand at his school’s basketball games. “All the other boys were interested in the game,” Stein recalled. “I had way more interest selling chips and soda.”
Before the shutdown, Stein’s plan was to run the cart as a weekend project—a bit of fun to balance out the often solitary work of writing federal regulations. But with the government shuttered, what began as a side hustle has become a full-time, street-side enterprise. Stein now spends afternoons in a business suit and tie—a sartorial nod to his day job—serving customers near the Metro and a Harris Teeter grocery store. The attire, he says, is “part of the schtick and I’m trying to give people my idea of genteel old Washington in the street.” In his words, “Clothes in this city have a lot to do with social positioning. So it’s intended to be subversive.”
The menu at SHYSTERS is a blend of nostalgia and regional flair. Hebrew National hot dogs and Chicago-style giardiniera anchor the offerings, while Moon Pies and RC Cola provide a taste of the American South. For canine companions, there are free hot dog-shaped dog treats. Stein’s attention to detail is evident in every aspect of the operation. “If someone recites the historical significance of RC Cola and Moon Pies, I give them a nickel off,” he told Reuters—a small but charming reward for those in the know.
But don’t mistake SHYSTERS for just another food cart. Stein sees the venture as part culinary enterprise, part conceptual art project. “It’s my first attempt at performance art,” he mused, describing the experience as a “joyous art project.” The cart’s slogan and lawyerly branding are as much a commentary on Washington’s culture as they are a clever marketing ploy. Every detail, from the suit and tie to the legalistic menu descriptions, is carefully curated with a comedian’s sensibility and a lawyer’s precision.
The clientele at SHYSTERS is as varied as the city itself. Construction workers, government employees, and tech workers—many taking a break from their home offices—line up for a taste of Stein’s “correct hot dog and drink.” According to Above the Law, a “plurality but not the majority” of customers opt for the steamed hot dog with spicy brown mustard and sauerkraut, a combination Stein proudly dubs “The Only Choice: Correct Hot Dog and Drink.”
For Stein, the best part of the job isn’t the food, but the people. “There’s the connection with people,” he said. “There’s the small talk of asking people about their day. It’s like reading vignettes in a novel. You feel really connected.” Each interaction, he explained, offers a brief glimpse into another life—a refreshing change from the solitude of regulatory work. “My office job is wonderful, but a lot of the work is very solitary,” Stein said. “I hoped to fulfill my desire to be around people when I started selling hot dogs. It’s played out in droves.”
Setting up SHYSTERS wasn’t as simple as buying a cart and hitting the streets. Stein’s legal background came in handy as he navigated the maze of city regulations. The process involved health, fire, and consumer protection inspections, as well as motor vehicle registration and a sidewalk permit. “I read 150 pages of regulations myself,” Stein noted, a nod to his day job and his commitment to doing things by the book. “Everything about this stand was done by the book.”
The investment was substantial, too. Stein poured a five-figure sum into launching SHYSTERS, a testament to both his commitment and his sense of humor about the risks involved. As Above the Law observed, Stein is likely the only D.C. lawyer currently serving the public in such a literal way. The experience, he says, is “performance art” meets processed meat—an unlikely but oddly fitting combination for the city’s unique political and cultural climate.
Stein’s story has resonated with many in Washington and beyond, not just because of its novelty but because it captures something essential about the city and its people. In a town where professional identity is often wrapped up in titles and offices, Stein’s willingness to embrace the absurdity of his situation—and to find joy in it—feels refreshingly honest. His cart’s slogan, “The Only Honest Ripoff in D.C.,” is both a joke and a challenge to the city’s status quo.
As the government shutdown drags on, Stein has no plans to stop. What started as a weekend project has become a daily ritual, one he intends to continue even after he returns to his IRS duties. “When the shutdown ends, I’ll go back to the IRS job I love,” he told Reuters, “but I’ll keep the cart running on weekends.” For Stein, the hot dog stand isn’t just a stopgap or a side hustle—it’s a dream fulfilled, a connection to his community, and, perhaps, a sly commentary on the city he calls home.
In a city often defined by its high-stakes politics and relentless pace, Isaac Stein’s SHYSTERS cart stands as a small but meaningful reminder that sometimes, serving the public can be as simple—and as satisfying—as sharing a hot dog and a story.
