A dumpy red Chevy pickup truck slows down in front of a three-story home on Filbert Street in the Marina. The estate is beautifully landscaped and has dark green ivy creeping up the butter-yellow walls of the garage. The truck pulls into the driveway in between a shiny silver Audi station wagon and a classic black BMW. Joey, wearing a black and white trucker’s hat and oversized cargo pants, slides out of the driver’s seat. While this guy may not warrant a second look down on Mission and 19th, at the intersection of Filbert and Hyde, he is the object of obvious ogling. He walks up to the gated entrance, buzzes the security bell and bounds up the stairs to the second floor patio.

The house has 13 rooms and an estimated value of around $3 million. The check to cover the property tax alone is made out for $15,296.70. Zoned as a multi-family dwelling, the building has been converted into a 10,000 square-foot playhouse for one. For its owner, Laura Shrug*, it was a purchase made with modesty in mind, a serious downgrade from the mansion she owned in Pacific Heights. She has developed distaste for unnecessary space and she thinks her new digs suit her nicely. “It’s just not cool to have more space than you need,” Shrug says.

San Francisco is a town of extreme disparity. In 2005, there are 20,000 homes in the Bay Area worth more than $1 million, and by last count, 6,248 people sleeping on the streets or in shelters each night. Unfortunately for the wealthy in San Francisco, the ability to ignore that reality is not for sale. The stigma, and in some cases shame, that comes with being wealthy in a politically-conscious city suggests Robin Leech would do best to stay in Beverly Hills.

Shrug's security gate swings open once more; Joey is now at a jog and following his sneaker-clad heels are two energetic dogs. He pops open the covered bed of his pick-up and the dogs jump in, greeted by half a dozen other barking, growling carpoolers.

There is the dog-walker in the trucker hat, the gardener who keeps the lemon trees trimmed, the dozens of contractors and sub-contractors who, over the past five years, have made more than $700,000 worth of improvement to the property. And then there's Maria, housekeeper extraordinaire. These are only a few of the people who simultaneously simplify and complicate the life of Laura Shrug, one of San Francisco’s growing number of millionaires. “I live here by myself, but really, I’m never alone,” Shrug says.

The granddaughter of Thomas Shrug, former owner of the Fairmont Hotel, Laura Shrug inherited the family real estate business, a well-known San Francisco surname and a ton of cash. But unlike a certain other well-know hotel heiress, Shrug’s life isn’t MTV material. The 56-year-old divorcée has spent her life coming to terms with the winning hand she was dealt. She has done so by working to improve the lives of others while at the same time trying to find ways to normalize her own. “I’ve gotten really into yoga. It’s been a great path to find some inner peace,” Shrug says.

Millionaires aren’t the rare breeds that they once were. According to the latest study published by Capgemini and Merill Lynch and Co., five percent of households in the Bay Area have assets of at least one million dollars.
Shrug’s home is beautiful. It has six bedrooms, four patios, two bathrooms and a sunlit yoga studio. It’s immaculately kept, thanks to Maria, and filled with a mix of antiques and the latest in modern luxury. The kitchen alone boasts a subzero fridge, a plasma TV, a commercial-style espresso grinder and machine, and an unblemished view of the Bay, framed by Alcatraz and Coit Tower.

But does a pile of cash give the wealthy a lifetime lease on easy street? As diamond-addicted rap stars have proven, a million bucks doesn’t guarantee you’ll never see the inside of bankruptcy court. For most in the million-and-more club, finding a good wealth manager can ensure the money goes to work so they don't have to.

Devon Porpora is the vice president of Trainer Wortham and Company, a wealth management firm in San Francisco that caters primarily to high rollers. If you’re in the mind to buy low and sell high, don't even think of walking through Trainer Wortham's doors with less than a cool mil'. Porpora explains that with a sizable initial investment, it is entirely possible to live comfortably off the returns. He says those who subsist on the income from their investments usually play a minimal role in their money management. Translation: nobody likes doing homework, especially those who can afford not to.

“People like that have other things to do. Running money is a lot of time, and most wealthy people end up doing other things,” Porpora says.

A typical day for Shrug includes a morning workout followed by a couple hours of yoga, which she has started teaching out of her home studio. She may stop in at the offices of her family’s real estate company a few times a week to catch up on phone calls.

On weekends, she ditches the demands of the city and heads to her house and vineyard in Sonoma. She and her sister have set up a small business making and selling wine, olive oil and vinegar. Shrug says the place is perfect for hosting guests for dinner and entertaining.

Shrug spends nearly two weeks out of each month traveling, whether it’s to see her kids back East, or to focus her yoga practice in India. It seems for a last minute getaway, enough cash can make the Azores as accessible as Alcatraz.

Still, you would be Googling the wrong rich girl if you were looking for celebrity gossip or shopping tips. Shrug's resume is filled with philanthropy and foundation work. Although she admits charity has taken a back seat to her yoga practice, she talks about interests in human rights, low-income assistance programs and “anything green.” She wants to start a program teaching yoga either to battered women, or to students in low-income high schools. “I know it’s impossible, but I would love to reduce the gap between high and low income,” Shrug says. The look on her face indicates that the irony of her surroundings is not lost on her.

The last time America saw a shrink in the great economic divide was nearly 10 years ago under President Clinton. Since then, the gap between rich and poor has only gotten wider. According to a New York Times analysis conducted in June, the 400 richest people in the world are paying the same percentage of income tax as those making $50,000-$100,000.

While most of us will never live the life of Joe Millionaire, many of them will never get to experience the simple joys of being Joe Average. Sure, Shrug may never have to sling drinks to unruly happy hour patrons, or even scrub her own bathtub, but they say there’s killer traffic into Sonoma on weekends.

*The subject’s name has been changed to protect her privacy.