I know I keep retelling this story, but it was quite traumatic. I'll keep it short this time.
Back story, due to a horrific divorce and a crazed ex, I had developed a social anxiety disorder and tended to have panic attacks in public. But I loved Disney more than anything and truly wanted to go.
When my Mom and I went in 2000, I didn't know about the hand-stamping process (or maybe I was so excited about being there, I didn't listen when the CM told me about it). Trying to enter Epcot after leaving MK became my awakening. I had a very rude, older gentleman (and I use the term loosely) CM who litterally took my head off for not getting my hand stamped. He just kept on and kept on until this younger CM came over and told him to drop it, enough was enough. He wasn't gonna let me in!! Needless to say, I did go in, but only to catch up with my Mother who made it fine (her hand wasn't stamped either). I was in full-blown panic attack mode and my Mother couldn't get a word out of me. We just turned around and went out the door, got back on the bus, and headed back to the room. Only when we got to the room was I able to tell her what happened. She called the front desk, but without a name, she couldn't help us. I was too scared to go back to Epcot after that.
But, now that I'm so much better, I was looking for that jerk in January (to no avail). But needless to say, I did get my hand stamped upon exiting every park, even when the CM said I didn't have to, I told them, "yes, I do, thanks".