Here’s the problem no square-footage bid engages: an apartment community’s repave is a logistics project wearing an asphalt hat. Two hundred stalls means two hundred households whose cars must be somewhere else — but not all at once, and never for long. The playbook that works runs on five disciplines. Displacement math first: before any phasing is drawn, count the community’s real parking supply against its occupancy — the overflow areas, street parking legalities, and neighboring-lot agreements that will absorb each phase’s displaced cars — because a phasing plan without a displacement plan is a towing bill with a schedule. Small phases, fast cycles: occupied communities repave in more, smaller sections than commercial lots — each section demolished, based, paved, and reopened on the shortest achievable cycle, so no household’s displacement outlasts its patience. The communication cadence is infrastructure: notices at proposal-approved intervals, maps at every mailbox and door, dates that don’t move without notice, and a towing protocol coordinated with management so the one car that didn’t move gets handled by procedure instead of by crisis. Access hierarchies: fire lanes stay open every hour of every phase (non-negotiable and inspected), trash service and accessibility stalls are sequenced with their own continuity plans, and carports and garages — whose renters pay for them — get phase-specific access windows rather than open-ended loss. And the calendar respects the property’s own rhythm: in this city that means PCS season — the summer military move wave that fills leasing calendars — treated as protected territory, with major phases scheduled against the turnover peaks rather than through them. The bid-reading translation for owners and managers: a multifamily paving proposal should include the phasing map, the displacement plan, and the notice schedule as deliverables — a price without them is a plan to improvise on your residents.