Good morning on this teeth-chattering Thursday.

When do you become a New Yorker?

The conversation came up recently, as it so often does in our city, over drinks among acquaintances at NeueHouse, a shared work space near Madison Square Park in Manhattan.

“I’ve heard it’s 10 years,” said Ben Brooks, a tech start-up founder who lives in Chelsea.

Between sips of a gin and tonic, Mr. Brooks, 35, offered a loophole: “You get a bonus year if you’ve been mugged at knife point.”

It is our city’s perennial parlor game. What experiences must one have, or how long must a transplant have lived here, to be considered a full-fledged New Yorker?

Is it when you know how to hail a cab? The first time you nap on the subway? Or when you see a rat and think nothing of it?