Christine
Richters

Christine Richters was standing in the lobby of the Villa Vera Hotel in Acapulco, where she had arrived moments earlier, hot, tired, five hours and a cab ride out of LAX. We managed to catch her eye with a friendly smile before she was taken to her room. Later, she told us it was her first time out of the country -- if you didn't count the ten years she spent in Dodge City, Kansas. "Yeah, the main place to be in Dodge is Wyatt Earp Boulevard. Everyone parks in the Boot Hill parking lot and then cruises up and down Wyatt Earp. It's really boring. There's nothing there. The music is, like, a month behind. In Dodge, once you've been to Boot Hill, that's it." There is no irony intended in that last remark -- nor any malice. Christine is burdened with the ennui of a generation accustomed to rapid change. When you can adjust your perspective to any of 20 channels with a click of a remote-control device, the impact of an outlaws' cemetery fades quickly. Everything's temporary, and the wispiness of the future makes a prudent girl seek stability. No fast-paced singles' life for Christine. "Those guys out there," she says, shaking her head disgustedly, "I know what all those guys are like at night clubs. I don't want to have to go to bed with all those guys, and that's what they expect. That's just the way they are. So I'm afraid to get into those situations. They make me nervous. And the younger guys -- they don't go to school, they don't learn, they just listen to MTV all the time, you know. So I don't even want to deal with it. I'd just rather get married and not have to worry about anything." It's hard to blame Christine for her outlook, especially since her experiences with men haven't been the best. "I've never really met my dad," she laments. "My parents got divorced when I was three; he lives in Fullerton somewhere. I went through the Department of Motor Vehicles to try to find him, but the address at the D.M.V. is wrong. I hope he'll see my picture and call." Boyfriends have given her trouble, too. "I had one boyfriend," she says, laughing, "who used to tell me that I'd never find another boyfriend if I left him. He was crazy. He was really mean to me, too. He would tell me he was coming home and then not come home all night. And then he went to bed with my best friend. Of course, she's not my best friend anymore."
Christine is resilient, though, and she hasn't given up yet. "I'm real insecure when it comes to boyfriends, but I would like to have the security of having someone there for me all the time." Her current relationship is reportedly a big improvement. "I don't see how it could get better," says Christine happily. That and the budding of a modeling career have made her think about some minor lifestyle adjustments. "I haven't found anything to do that I really like since I was in school. At least then, I had to get up at a certain time and I had to be there. But lately, since I haven't been doing anything, I just have gotten lazy. I was eating junk food all the time, but now I take vitamins and stuff. Now that I'm working with Playboy, I'm more into keeping myself up. I have a reason to. I mean, I have to. I look at all those other Playmates and that kind of gives me a push." Although she does dream about owning a little land for a wild-animal park, that's for the future. For now, Christine is content. From the vantage point of an Acapulco beach, things don't look half bad.