Dirty thirty marriage pact

I got a birthday email from CVS Mike today. I haven't talked to him in ages, years even. He wished me a happy day, and then reminded me of something I'd forgotten. One night, after many vodka and cranberries (me) and beers (him), we made a marriage pact. It went a little something like this.

Me: You know, if we both end up single, we should get married.

Him: We need a cut off.

Me: Thirty.

Him: Your thirty or my thirty?

Me: Mine. That will make you 33?

Him: Yes.

Me: Do we have to have kids?

Him: No.

Me: Do we have to have sex?

Him: No.

Me: Can we sleep with other people?

Him: Yes.

Me: Cool. Yeah, I'm in.

So uh, I guess I'm engaged now or something. If anyone wants to attend our Vegas wedding, let me know.