Sure, he could have helped her cart her bags into the lobby with his strong and capable arms, allowed her worn out shoulders a freedom from their burdens, maybe even offered a sarcastic quip to lighten the mood. Bah-dun-tss! But watching her toil over them, them being few either way and not appearing too heavy at all, was a lot more amusing than acknowledging her quandary.
Like a sliver of sunlight creeping in tip-toed through a shard of open space within the roof of Dracula's tomb, he was sneaking expertly behind her as she pressed buttons and searched for his whereabouts. She wasn't stupid, she'd figure it out eventually, but this was just a lot more fun than watching; a lot more fun than sneaking.
When enough silence was sufficient, he leaned in once he'd reached a quiet position behind her and bellowed:
"LAURENT RESIDENCE."
It echoed through out the lobby like rolling thunder.