When I opened the LA Times to get the weather forecast, I saw that there was a “red flag warning,” referring to the gusty winds and their potential damage. I thought: “If only men came with a similar warning, issued by the ‘relationship meteorologists,’ this would save a lot of time and heartache.”

But despite the Oprahs and Dr. Phils of the world, we women really don’t have a reliable source to turn to for a “relationship forecast.” Thus, we have to take matters into our own hands. We must screen potential dates and learn to ask the right questions because, unlike the weather, we are not told when to post the red flags. If we’re not sufficiently savvy, we’ll get caught in the rain without an umbrella.

Recently, I met a man through a Jewish Internet matchmaking service with a reputation for having “marriage-minded” members. Unlike other sites, whose members only need to be “separated,” this site requires you to be officially divorced (or, of course, widowed) and, for the most religiously observant, you are required to “get a get.”

Brett, like others I had dated from the site, was hand picked by my matchmaker. On paper (or, I should say, “on the screen”), he met my educational and religious criteria and then some. He was an ivy league-educated scientist with his own research company, two years younger than I am, and “sufficiently” religious. He even lived in Orange County, which was a welcome change from the “dating commute” I had experienced with men from Los Angeles.

Although I insist on screening a man on the telephone before I meet him, Brett and I kept missing each other. However, he had lovely telephone manners, as captured in his voice mail messages, and good follow through. In one message, had stated that, if we missed each other again, he would send me an e-mail. Sure enough, he did. And unlike other men with whom I have corresponded by e-mail, he could spell, put a sentence together, and even manage to pay me a compliment. As a bonus, in his initial e-mail to me, he took the initiative to ask me for a Saturday night dinner at a restaurant of my choosing and to make it clear that it was his treat.

He seemed so menschy that I wasn’t concerned that I hadn’t had the opportunity to ask him my usual three questions, which represent my attempt at “relationship forecasting.” These questions predict whether I can expect cloudy days, whether there will be showers, and which way the wind is blowing.

Question 1. “How long have you been divorced?” This determines whether my date still has a dark cloud over his head (i.e., is among the “walking wounded”).

Question 2. “How is your relationship with your ex-wife?” This is used to predict whether I can expect intermittent showers (i.e., post-divorce anger or depression).

Question 3. “Tell me about your post-divorce relationships.” This assesses whether the wind will remain steady or blow hot and cold (i.e., commitment issues).

My questions would have to wait until our Saturday dinner.

Brett was well dressed and waiting for me when I arrived at the restaurant. After some initial chitchat, I got down to business. When I asked Brett how long he had been divorced, he prefaced his reply by telling me that there was no place on the profile to indicate “separated.” Then he said that he had just recently moved out and gotten his own apartment. Here come the dark clouds!

Technically, the “wrong” answer to Question 1 precludes asking the remaining two questions, but I was curious about the upcoming weather pattern. “What is your relationship with your, uh, wife?” “She’s a bit off. It’s hard to deal with her. Anyway, she’s visiting her family right now and hasn’t seen the note I left for her about my moving out.” I felt a storm brewing.

Well, there certainly was no point in asking about his post-divorce relationships! With the dark clouds ahead and a storm brewing, I didn’t care which way the wind was blowing. It already was clear to me that I needed to post that red flag warning.