Try roleplaying these implications for yourself.

 

You're 3 years old, and you live in a large, very nice 1-story house with a backyard that, by today's standards and paraphernalia, somewhat, feels to you what a huge, grassy MMORPG setting feels like to a kid of today (perhaps a kid who was lucky enough to have a game like Xenoblade Chronicles for the original Wii around to play?).

It's 1985. The world around you is by far quieter, and... you know what Pac-Man is, but only vaguely. You have a rough idea of what it is, but have only played clones of it on your Commodore 64 computer.

You own one particular Pac-Man clone, and because of how distinctly different it is, it has become your "go to" for all your Pac-Man needs.

 

And every time you load it up from a floppy disk, this is what you see on-screen, and the music you hear non-stop until you've either pressed "Fire" to play, or have exited the game:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_fNRmJjgK0

 

This is what keeps you busy in-between pre-school, and having happy, derpy backyard fun. Every time you load it up, you've already spent about 2 minutes in silence just settling in and entering the keyboard commands to properly browse the diskette it's on to wait about another 15 seconds for it to load up, all in silence. And that is the screen and music that greets you every time.

Then when you're done playing, you totally gravitate to your copy of "Forbidden Forest" just because the title screen music of Pac-Runner left you wanting to play a game with similarly creepy music. And as far as you know - in that time period - there is no such thing as a NES, let alone a PC.

 

Imagine the atmosphere.