My Wife Is Mad

"Let me in!" She's yanking at the door handle On the passenger side as I perch in The driving seat in our rusty dusty Electric vehicle car She's just emerged from the building In eighty-eighty per cent steaminess The door seems to be locked She continues to heave and whisk This portal into air conditioned Ecstasy doesn't seem to wanna budge The fail to dislodge and the muscle strain Causes a face of badassery and hassle to emerge A similar white coloured hooptie and Same model parked in front of me I beep my horn and she realises she's Trying to get in the wrong car