Slight powerlevel coming.
For a period of about 4 months in the late 1980s, I attended a British JW church. I was initially doorstepped as a lot of people are: the two JWs concerned, a husband and wife team, were friendly and seemed intelligent and reasonable enough. Out of curiosity (I knew very little about JWs), I agreed to attend some of their services.
All very happy-clappy. The services were attended by families and a lot of JW hymns seem designed for children to sing (very simplistic, also difficult for an adult to sing well due to their pitch). This in itself started to sour me on the whole thing. They also seemed to have a very hard line on certain things which, as a live-and-let-live kind of guy, sat badly with me (they really didn't like gays, to pick one obvious example). When I also got confirmation of that 'no blood transfusion' stuff, that was pretty much the last straw. Any religion that would let a loved one die rather than get them help isn't worth following. I wrote them as polite a letter as I could saying that I was out.
Perhaps because I'd never seemed like a serious candidate to become a full-on JW, there didn't seem to be any real upset at this - I certainly wasn't ceremonially drummed out to my face. In the ensuing months, two separate visits were made to my flat to ask me if I wanted to come back. I said no to both (the fact that, cruel as it is to judge by appearances, one of these visits was made by a large obese type who looked like the splicing of Arnold Toht and a stereotypical child molester helped me decide that pretty clearly). After that, nothing more.
Oh, yeah - the local elder was a dead spit for a young(ish) William Shatner, but with a broad yokel accent. Not important, but it did make it hard for me to keep a straight face at services.
They'd always felt a bit off to me, and at least now I knew something whereof I spoke. Reading some of the stuff in the excellent OP has therefore not exactly come as a shock.