Meet The Unsung Hero Of Our $800/375,000-Mile NYC Cab Build And The Miracle Window He Made

Yesterday I announced our plan to drive the deeply worn and tired ex-New York City taxi that we picked up for $800 on Copart all the way across the country. Objectively, it’s a terrible idea, but it’s also an idea that I think can actually happen, thanks to a lot of work and effort from my co-founder, David Tracy, who came down to wrench like a madman on the cab with me. But there’s one person we haven’t mentioned enough, without whom this would definitely be a disaster, instead of just a likely disaster. That person is Andy King.

Andy letting us use his remarkably well-organized and equipped shop with all those tools and that lift was a huge part of it, but it’s Andy himself that is the real secret sauce here. Andy is an architect by trade, but a gearhead in his blood. He’s got multiple car projects going on at once, and has built multiple motorcycles, including one so lovely it blurs the line between art and motorcycle and I really need to write that one up one day. But right now I just want to talk about a much smaller achievement of Andy’s but one that I think tells you all you need to know: the back window of the taxi.

Yes, the back window! You may recall that window was smashed into bits when those tow company idiots let the taxi roll off the truck ramp unattended, where it smashed into a tree, but thankfully didn’t go into anyone’s living room. Let’s look at that GIF again:

That backwards smash into a tree left the rear door of the taxi looking like this:

Yes, that door is well and comprehensively boned. And that window has returned to nature in thousands of little pieces I’ll be finding in the gravel of my driveway for years to come. I got a sheet of plexiglass from the hardware store that wasn’t really the right size and just taped it in, like this:

It didn’t leak, and I thought ah, good enough. It’s fine. How good does it need to look, anyway?

But that’s not how Andy works.

It was becoming clear that we weren’t going to be able to source a new door in time, so while cleaning the taxi, we got the rear door open and banged it back a bit more into shape so it would at least open and close. In doing so, we took out the half-ass plexiglass window, with the plan of getting a plexi window in there that fits a little bit better.

So, I dropped off a piece of $20 plexiglass I grabbed from a hardware store at Andy’s shop, figuring I’d just get it stuck in with gasket maker or something. It’d likely look sloppy, but probably would work well enough. Andy, though, seemed to have other plans, and when I got back to the shop, I was greeted by this:

Wait, what? Is that a new factory window? Somehow fitted to that janky door? Let’s look closer:

Holy shit! That looks perfect! Where the hell did Andy find an NV200 Taxi-spec rear glass?

It looks fantastic, even right up close! But when you touch it, it doesn’t feel as cold as glass? It feels like…plexiglass? Wait. Could it be? No. But, yes, yes it is.

This window was just the flat sheet of cheap plexiglass I got the day before. Andy, using his dark magic, transformed it into something that looks almost exactly like the original factory window.

How? Well, the answer is a hell of a lot of skill, years of practice, and these tools and materials:

Here’s the thing about Andy: I don’t think he can half-ass anything. Me, I’m a perpetual fractioner of asses. And I do build things! I have a background in art and have made sculptures and installations I’m quite proud of, but there’s a huge difference here. Where I always feel like I do things good enough, Andy has craftsmanship skills and standards so far beyond mine. He has years of model-making experience from his architecture training and practice, and he applies the full force of these skills to everything, even something as mundane as an ersatz window for the smashed rear door of a beat-to-hell taxi.

Andy took the plexi, measured and cut it to just the right shape, masked out the actual open area of the door and painted the other areas glossy black, then used that butyl windscreen sealant and a heat gun to mount the glass and give it just the right curve. Those hammers were involved with that process, too. He says it didn’t even take him that long to do, which is a testament to how much skill he brings to tasks like this. I don’t think he’s capable of doing any less, even if you asked him to.

The result is something so vastly better than it has any right to be I decided the world had to know, and that’s why this is today’s Cold Start. I’ve never been more impressed with $20 of plexiglass in my life.

Thanks for everything, Andy.