A lively New York celebration became a little too boisterous Saturday night — even by underground standards.

The revelry began after 10 p.m., when first-time author Thomas Bistritz celebrated his bawdy, picaresque memoir “Don’t Piss in My Martini, please!” (On Point Publishing) with a party on the last car of an E train. A disc jockey who goes by the name RadarHifi held a boom box.

Friends boarded the subway car at the World Trade Center subway stop. The author wore a sparkling silver hat with red bow, a black sequined shirt, a multi-colored scarf with an heirloom brooch, and oversize pink sunglasses that would’ve looked at home on Elton John in his early years. “I’d rather be Jackie O. than Elton,” he said when asked about the comparison.

“It’s a cliché, but he’s the life of the party,” friend Katherine Kostreva, who first met Mr. Bistritz in the third grade and now is publisher of his book, said.

Ms. Kostreva opened a suitcase of Cook’s Champagne. Party favors such as plastic Champagne bottle noisemakers and glow-in-the-dark sticks were handed to passengers who happened to be on the train, including five wearing Santa Claus outfits as participants of “Santacon,” a yuletide group of roaming revelers.

When two women entered the train car at West Fourth Street, Mr. Bistritz inquired, “Ladies, cocktails?” and proceeded to hand them pink plastic cups.

His book is a raucous memoir about his first two years in Manhattan since arriving here from Florida.

The author’s partner, Mark Michalik, described his boyfriend as “effervescent like Champagne.”

At the 42nd Street station, the revelers left the subway and stepped onto the platform, whereupon two police officers heard the boom box and issued a noise citation. Chastened but still wanting to party, they headed by cab downtown to Luke and Leroy bar and lounge.