I was good at the game. Very good. I learned tricks and glitches, each ghost’s distinctive way of chasing Ms. Pac-Man. Pinky was the fastest ghost, while Blinky was the hardest to shake. Sue was slow, which could lull a player into a false sense of security. There were nerves-of-steel routes where Ms. Pac-Man could brush “shoulders” with a ghost without getting caught. But when I really needed a breather, I used safe-spot glitches on the screen where Ms. Pac-Man could hide and become “invisible.” Theoretically, she could stay tucked away in her little corner forever while the ghosts sped past, unable to find her.

Hiding was not danger-free. One little toggle of the joystick, and the ghosts buzzing around in frenzied search would immediately attack. It was way too easy to accidentally jiggle that stick, because somewhere deep inside, you were never completely convinced that Ms. Pac-Man was truly safe. You wanted to stay ready to GO in case a ghost’s eyes turned your way.

I could identify with this. I liked my own safe corner of the ice-cream shop. My “ghosts” were multiple term papers to finish in limited time, cramming for final exams, and (especially) what exactly I planned to do with my life after falling off the cliff of rapidly-approaching graduation. But safely isolated in the ice-cream shop, all I had to do was play the screen in front of me while the rest of the world whizzed past.

Of course, there was another factor to invisibility. Sure, Ms. Pac-Man was tucked away where nobody could find her. But she was no longer part of the game. She never did anything or went anywhere. Since she wasn’t eating pellets or fruit, no points accumulated. She didn’t take any chances, but nothing happened, either. She was just …there.

Playing it safe meant you missed stuff.

Back when I was super-good at Ms. Pac-Man, I once turned over the game. I went through many different iterations of the Ms. Pac-Man Acts (They Meet! The Chase! Junior!) I passed through screen after screen of images and colors I’d never seen in the game before. Even then, I knew I’d never experience that again. I’d just maxed out of Ms. Pac-Man.

You not only miss stuff when you play it safe, but there’s a second part, too: what’s the point of learning the game if you never give yourself the chance to use what you’ve learned? It was time to leave the ice-cream shop.

Put me in front of a Ms. Pac-Man screen now, and I’m respectable but not amazing. I could say that the game itself has changed (it has), but the truth is that once I stopped playing regularly, I lost my chops. But moving on came with new benefits. I don’t regret it.

Besides, it opened the door to pinball.