By Helen Coster
(Reuters) -Isaac Stein makes his living as an attorney for the Internal Revenue Service, working mostly on his own, writing retirement plan regulations in a Washington office building.
Since the federal government shut down early this month, his typical day could not be more different. Stein now spends afternoons on the streets of the nation’s capital selling hot dogs, Moon Pies and RC Cola from a cart he has named “SHYSTERS.”
It’s a job that calls for people skills and a sense of humor, both of which Stein has in abundance.
One constant is his attire. He serves up his dogs wearing a business suit and tie, just as if he were back at the office serving up tax regulations.
The hot dog cart – the slogan for which is: “The Only Honest Ripoff in D.C.” – is the realization of a childhood dream for the 31-year-old Stein. It began at age 12, when he manned a concession stand during a basketball game at his school gym.
“All the other boys were interested in the game,” Stein said. “I had way more interest selling chips and soda.”
WEEKEND PROJECT BECOMES 7 DAYS A WEEK
Before the government shutdown, Stein had intended for the cart to be a “fun weekend project.” But his furlough has given him more time for what he describes as “a joyous art project.”
He now finds himself out seven days a week in the neighborhood where he sets up shop.
“There’s the connection with people,” Stein said. “There’s the small talk of asking people about their day. It’s like reading vignettes in a novel. You feel really connected.”
The cart attracts a mixed clientele of construction workers, government employees and tech workers taking a break from their home offices. It is located near the Metro and a Harris Teeter grocery store.
A “plurality but not the majority” of his customers order a steamed hot dog served with spicy brown mustard and sauerkraut, which Stein describes on his menu as ‘The Only Choice: Correct Hot Dog and Drink’.
The stand, which he said required a five-figure investment, is part culinary enterprise, part conceptual art. The name – based on a term used to describe unscrupulous lawyers – is meant to be ironic, and part of the joke. “It’s my first attempt at performance art,” he mused.
Stein’s suit jacket, pants, buttoned-up shirt and tie is “part of the shtick and I’m trying to give people my idea of genteel old Washington in the street,” he said. “Clothes in this city have a lot to do with social positioning. So it’s intended to be subversive.”
The menu is a blend of nostalgia and regional flair: Hebrew National hot dogs and Chicago-style giardiniera, as well as Moon Pies and RC Cola for Southern patrons, and free, hot dog-shaped dog treats. “If someone recites the historical significance of RC Cola and Moon Pies, I give them a nickel off,” Stein said.
The cart’s setup required navigating a complex regulatory process, including health, fire, and consumer protection inspections, as well as a motor vehicle registration and a sidewalk permit.
“I read 150 pages of regulations myself,” said Stein, no stranger to bureaucratic legalese. “Everything about this stand was done by the book.”
When the shutdown ends, Stein plans to return to the IRS job, which he says he loves, while continuing to operate the cart on weekends.
“My office job is wonderful but a lot of the work is very solitary,” Stein said, explaining that he hoped to fulfill his desire to be around people when he started selling hot dogs.
“It’s played out in droves,” he said.
(Reporting by Helen Coster; Editing by Frank McGurty and Bill Berkrot)
