yes, i liken you to scrap paper

so drunk asshole man from last week comes into the library again, but this time i am prepared. he is no match for me. he approaches the desk and asks if i can give him some paper to write on. i tell him we have scrap paper he can use, and i point to the shelf behind him where there is a large wooden tray that has the words "scrap paper," in big bold print.
"are you saying i'm only worthy of scrap?" he asks.
"yes," i say, "and the scrap paper is right behind you."
"hey little lady," he begins, "i didn't think you would start off being so rude."
"well," i tell him, "i remember you from last week. the scrap paper is on the shelf behind you."
so he plays all innocent, like he doesn't remember me threatening to have the police escort him out of the building last thursday. "why, what could i have done?
"i'm not going to get into this discussion," i say and extend my arm straight out. "the scrap paper is on the shelf behind you."
so he goes on a bumbling search for the scrap paper, passing the shelf which is the only thing behind him. he stumbles into the computer area, bumping into patrons and asking them if they know where the scrap paper is.
at this point i shout, "sir, it's on the shelf. right here. the shelf. right here. where i am pointing." it could not be more obvious.
then surrounding patrons begin pointing to the clearly-marked scrap paper bin which sits atop the only shelf in the vacinity. "right there," they exclaim and point, "on the shelf!"
finally he locates the shelf, "oh, scrap paper!" he says, reading the large sign, "i see."
then he sits down at a table, muttering to himself, forcing a nice elderly man to evacuate his seat next to him.
"i just like to talk to the pretty little girl," he says, as the elderly man finds a new place to sit on the other side of the library.
and then my replacement showed up and i got to leave for lunch.