Everyman for himself.

Gay Mole finalist Jim Morrison fought hard to the end, Now he's facing a new reality

Sit down in Jim Morrison's 1984 5 Series BMW, and he's quick to point out how he's altered it from the standard model: The engine is from a 1989 6 Series, and even the instrument panel has been tweaked to be "more German."

His penchant to be different doesn't stop with the car. The 30-year-old Morrison--one of two openly gay contestants on ABC's The Mole and first runner-up in the February 28 finale--makes a point of taking the autobahn less traveled. A Columbia University law grad, he's pursuing a career as a helicopter pilot. And today, sitting outside an In-N-Out Burger in Hollywood, Calif., he says that had he won, he would have given a chunk of his Mole winnings to charity.

"I think it would have been cool to be the first reality TV show winner to actually give a lot of it away," Morrison says, adding that his beneficiaries would have been AIDS groups and environmental action group the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, whose members "go out and ram Japanese fishing boats."

The Sea Shepherds will have to do their ramming on someone else's dime, though. By finishing second on the show--which challenged 10 contestants to determine who among them was the planted saboteur, eliminating one player on each episode--Morrison left with none of the $510,000 pot. (The winner was a 30-year-old undercover policeman from Colorado.)

It was a hard-fought second place, though. Morrison had to jump from an airplane at 10,000 feet, fight a bull in Spain, and covertly orchestrate the downfall of his fellow players, including lesbian contestant Jennifer Biondi.

Biondi--eliminated four episodes before the finale--admits she was a bit miffed by Morrison's tactics. "I felt that `family' wouldn't screw over family, but I was seriously wrong," she says. "In the end I trusted the wrong person. However, I still have good karma."

It was Morrison's focus on the game that helped him outlast most of his opponents, according to Mole host Anderson Cooper. "A lot of people on the show were either looking to make some money or to become famous in one way or another, but Jim really got involved in the game and played it really well," Cooper says. "He also handled himself very well in situations where [another player] said some derogatory things about gay people in general or specifically mentioning Jim. He was a very honorable player." Besides, Cooper says, "it was nice having someone there who was paler and skinnier than I am."

Now that The Mole is over, Morrison has moved from New Jersey to Los Angeles, where the streets--and gay bars--are riddled with reality TV refugees. When he's not tripping over The Real World's Norman, Morrison is flying a helicopter part-time for a local radio station in order to build hours for a commercial pilot's license.

"All I need to do is be myself and be happy, and whatever that entails--maybe something as a result of this show--fantastic," he says, hinting that he wouldn't pass up any reality residuals, as long they were more serious than a Chap Stick ad. "If not, I'm still pursuing getting my own helicopter or a job flying somewhere."

Finished with his burger and getting back into his BMW, Morrison remembers why he got into this Mole business in the first place--to perpetuate his policy of nonconformity. "You know, I just think there should be a kind of diversity of gay people portrayed on TV, rather than the stereotypical characteristics that society seems to pin on us," he says. "If there are kids out there who think I'm cool and say, `Wow, I feel more comfortable about myself because of him,' then that's reason enough for being on the show and not winning. That's worth a million million dollars."

For out full-length exclusive interviews with Jim Morrison and Jennifer Biondi, go to www.advocate.com